


Blu

by chelou



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, because i love a good trope, your typical high school AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-01-16 09:42:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 70,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18518863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelou/pseuds/chelou
Summary: Elliot Demaury. He’s tall, he’s squinty, he’s got big hair, and he’s the most beautiful thing Lucas has ever laid his eyes on. He’s walking sunshine. He’s freshly mowed grass on a summer day, he’s a hot cup of coffee in the morning, he’s just-- he is everything.And he also has absolutely no idea who Lucas is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm really just posting this short first chapter to see what type of response I get to see if I should continue it or not, and I probably will regardless, but i just want to see this first. 
> 
> I have yet to decide whether or not I'm going to include Elliot's MI storyline, mostly because I'm not sure how I would do it, seeing as i don't really have experience with MI and I don't want to take any chances of portraying it poorly and/or doing it injustice, but also it's such an important part of his story and I'd like to respect the character, soooo i'm still not sure. 
> 
> Please leave kudos if you enjoy and comments to let me know your thoughts!! :)
> 
> lastly, title comes from a jon bellion song that I would highly recommend listening to because it is at least 3 whole bops and has been my MOST elu song since the ship existed.

Really, he’s never been a party person. He attends a lot of them, yes, but as far as actually enjoying his time there? It’s rare. So rare, in fact, that it startles him a little when he’s sitting on the counter in Emma’s kitchen, head resting on the cupboards behind him as he listens to Basile go on and on about some brunette he saw earlier with bangs that he  _ swears  _ was checking him out - it’s hard to tell, really, when it comes to girls and Basile, you know - but then Yann teases him with, “Maybe she was just staring at the huge ass stain on your shirt,” as he pokes a finger to Basile’s chest, and when Basile inevitably turns into a panicking mess, tilts his head down to look at said stain, Yann draws his finger up, runs its over Basile’s face and then starts laughing. 

It’s an old, juvenile trick to play, and it truthfully shouldn’t be as funny as it is, but maybe that’s why they’re all laughing so hard, right? It’s simple, it’s silly, it’s  _ unexpected,  _ to say the least, yet it has all of them on the brink of tears laughing so hard. It’s  _ stupid.  _ And here’s Lucas, taking a sip of his drink and trying not to choke on it as he nearly spits it out in a fit of giggles. 

He’s not a party person, but little moments like these make them worth it, he supposes. 

Well, and also the view he catches when he looks up and sees the  _ real  _ reason he came here tonight (and most other nights too, not just because his friends beg him to.)

Elliot Demaury. He’s tall, he’s squinty, he’s got big hair, and he’s the most beautiful thing Lucas has ever laid his eyes on. He’s walking sunshine. He’s freshly mowed grass on a summer day, he’s a hot cup of coffee in the morning, he’s just-- he is everything. 

And he also has absolutely no idea who Lucas is. 

Yet, Lucas drags himself to every party with the hopes that he might see Elliot there, and half the time he doesn’t. Half the time Elliot doesn’t show up at all. When he does, though, it’s great. Lucas could spend  _ hours  _ watching him from afar as he drinks and laughs with his friends, dances with people, casually leans against the walls and smokes - that one is a particular favorite of Lucas’ because it usually takes the guy forever to get through a joint or cigarette. He talks and talks and talks and ends up having to relight whatever it is several times because he either takes too much time in between puffs or he just leaves it hanging in his mouth and never actually takes a hit. Whatever it is, the thing is constantly going out when it’s Elliot’s turn with it. 

Tonight Elliot slips into the kitchen with one of his friends - Imane’s brother, Lucas thinks, though he can never remember the guys’ name -  and they’re only coming in to grab a couple more beers but then a girl comes up to them, grabs their attention, and Lucas can’t hear what she’s saying but he’s certain that she just asked Elliot a question, and by the way he smiles brightly and friendly but puts a hand to his chest, mutters something while shaking his head and then grabs his friends’ shoulder with his other hand, it’s obvious that he declined whatever she offered him and suggested his friend instead. 

_ Idris!  _ Lucas thinks,  _ that’s his name,  _ he follows the girls lead out of the room, turns around and mouths an enthusiastic  _ thank you  _ to Elliot and then continues on and  _ fuck, _ Lucas is never going to get over the beauty that is created when this fucking beanstalk of a human smiles. 

He’s snapped out of his thoughts though, however, when someone is snapping in front of his face and he’s realized that he zoned out for a few moments. “Hm?” He asks, scooting back a little and sitting up a bit straighter. Everyone else is standing, so he’s got a tiny height advantage with his spot on the counter. He wonders briefly as he stares down at everyone,  _ is this what Elliot feels like?  _ Then he laughs to himself,  _ probably not.  _

Arthur’s squinting at him curiously and Lucas furrows his eyebrows defiantly as Yann repeats, “I asked if you wanted anymore of this?” He holds up the roach between two fingers and Lucas shakes his head no, giving him the go ahead to put it out. “Did you guys do the French assignment?” 

“-What French assignment?”

“-There was a French assignment?” 

Yann scoffs and looks straight across from him to Lucas, “You?” Lucas sheepishly looks down and shakes his head with a grin, causing his friend to laugh. It starts off the topic of classes and homework, Arthur complaining about how much he dislikes his teacher because he is  _ absolutely positive  _ that she has it out for him. He’s in the middle of telling a story about how he asked his neighbor for a pencil and the teacher got onto him in front of the whole class about how he was being disruptive and irresponsible, meanwhile the guys at the table next to him were throwing tiny paper balls at the people in front of _them_. 

“I’m serious!” He exasperates, “She nearly gave me detention because of it! Can you believe it? I--” 

“Shh!” Basile cuts him off, patting him in the ribs a couple of times to emphasize and everyone looks at him quizzically. He’s paying no attention to them, however, staring directly in front of them like a deer in the headlights. “She’s coming,  _ she’s coming _ ,” he whispers aggressively, and they all turn their heads to see the brunette mentioned in their earlier conversation walking towards them. 

Lucas almost can’t contain the groan that tries to force its way out of him but he somehow does suppress it and throws his head back into the cabinets behind him with a slight  _ bang.  _ His friend  _ loves  _ to exaggerate in these situations.  

“Eh, h-hey,” Basile fumbles, clearing his throat and leaning an elbow on the sink to look casual. It’s amusing, really, to see him struggle during this. 

The brunette smiles kindly at him, but, to everyone’s surprise (or not??) she focuses her attention on Lucas. “Hi,” she greets all giddily with her hands behind her back. 

Lucas looks at her, looks at each of his friends, and then back to her. “Hi,” 

She holds out a hand, “Chloe,” 

“Lucas,” 

She’s really a very pretty girl, and maybe if he was straight then he might be interested, but he’s not, so..he’s not. 

“Lucas,” she repeats him with a small grin and a nod of the head, and he takes his hand back from where it’s still grasped in hers. “Dance with me, Lucas?” She licks her lips when she says it, and he hates how hopeful she sounds because he hates having to crush her spirits and tell her he’s not into her, so instead he settles for an awkward, 

“Ah, sorry, I’m actually just about to head out,” and realizes after he says it that she’s still got the disappointed glint in her eyes either way so he really didn’t do that great of a job at sparing her feelings. 

Biting the inside of her mouth, she shakes her head, “Okay,” she accedes, and starts backing away, “Well if you change your mind, let me know,” she leaves off with a wink that does absolutely nothing for him but that’s not really her fault, so. 

“ _ Dude, _ ” Basile whines, “What the fuck?” 

“What?”

“The whole point of you being gay is so that you can send the girls  _ our way! _ ” 

Lucas narrows his eyes and Yann tilts his head to the side in mock confusion, “Mmm," it comes out high pitched and fake, "Is it?"

“I mean-- you know what I mean!” Lucas shakes his head, not bothering to say anything because once again, he’s having to watch Basile struggle not to be a dumbass and try to correct himself. 

“Alright,” he hops down from the counter, ignoring his curly haired friend in favor of high fiving Arthur and Yann, “I really am leaving though,” He’s been here long enough, he’s seen Elliot, he’s tired, it’s time. The guys don’t try to argue because they know how he is, they hug him and say their goodbyes, Yann offers to walk him outside and Lucas tells him that it won’t be necessary, as much as he appreciates it, and then he faces the crowd of hot, sweaty bodies, dancing and grinding and making out, and he tries to slink through them with as little contact as possible which actually ends up proving to be quite difficult. 

He’s almost at the door, pushing past a particularly R rated couple almost definitely about to have sex if someone doesn’t stop them soon and he weirdly, for some reason, can’t take his eyes off of them, which is probably why he runs straight into someone’s chest because he isn’t paying any attention to where he’s going. “Shit, sorry,” 

As soon as he raises his head and his eyes lock with soft blue ones, he’s too entranced by them to realize that there’s a hand on his arm, holding him steady and it probably belongs to the body in front of him but he’s too shocked to really think about that. He just knows that this is the closest he’s ever been to Elliot Demaury in his life and he’s way more beautiful up close like this than Lucas ever could have prepared for. “No worries,” the older boy smiles, slides his hand down Lucas’ arm and then he slips by him, probably more closer than he needed to be but who was Lucas to complain? 

Turns out, he has a lot of complaining to do because before he can even take a breath and truly comprehend how close they are in that moment, Elliot’s already disappeared into the throng of drunken teenagers and Lucas is left on his own, just trying to remember what the older boy smelt like. 

\--

\--

He gets through most of Monday morning doing the bare minimum because that’s really the only way you can.  He fucks around with his friends during the classes that he has with them, stays as focused as he can during his class with Imane, and tries to keep out of the hallways as much as possible between classes because he’s never really in the mood to deal with how rowdy and rude the other students are. 

Lunch is always a relief because one, it’s never not time to eat, and two, if they’re positioned correctly at the tables, he has the perfect view of Elliot for the entirety of their break, and seeing Elliot is _always_ a fresh breath of air. Except for when he does something so fucking stunning that he just rips the air from Lucas’ lungs, but even that is somehow still relaxing. 

Today he plops down into his spot with his tray, greets the boys and some of the girls who are already there, and he nonchalantly and totally cooly waits for a 3rd year boy to sit down across from him, 3 tables away. 

Manon takes her usual spot next to him, bumps his shoulder when she sits and smiles warmly at him. She’s the closest he’s ever got to having a sister, and though the other girls mean a great deal to him, she’s the only one he can truly say that about. He’ll never be able to thank her and Mika enough for taking him in, looking out for him the way they have. He confides in her whatever he needs, and what he can’t her, he tells Yann, and vice versa, but generally they’ve both got the same knowledge on all things Lucas Lallement. 

When Daphne sits it takes her exactly 7 seconds before she brings up her plans for the foyer and how excited she is to get things started. The guy’s all pretend to be annoyed and like they couldn’t care, but the truth is every member of the “girl squad” has slithered their ways into every member of the “gangs” hearts. It’s not much of a surprise to Lucas, actually, because he knows how easily it was for him to slip into the comfortability and support that came with being around the girls, so it didn’t take long for the guys to join in on that either. 

“And Lucas,” Daphne starts, and he knows that tone of voice, knows what’s behind the way she says his name like that. He wants to roll his eyes but he can’t because it’s  _ Daphy.  _ “You’re still on for repainting the mural, right?” 

This has got to be her fourth time asking him and he replies like he always does, “Of course, Daphy,” and her lips twist into a pleased grin that makes all of this relentless foyer talk almost worth it. He’ll never admit it out loud, but he’s always had a soft spot for the blonde. Sometimes he thinks that she knows that and she takes advantage of it by asking him to do the most weirdest of things, but he can’t seem to make himself care about that. 

Manon chuckles at him and puts an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in close, silently teasing him about being wrapped around Daphne’s finger and he doesn’t try to hide his smile as he leans his head on her shoulder. He can’t help the way his eyes fall on the space between Yann and Arthur, focusing all the way in the back, and he hadn’t even realized when Elliot sat down. He sees now though, especially because Elliot stares right back at him. Their eyes locked. Crazy thing about it is, Elliot’s eyes were already on Lucas when he noticed him. 

Lucas can’t really tell the look on his face. He’s not really doing much, it just-- he’s just  _ looking,  _ and there’s this tiny upturn to his lips, barely noticeable but Lucas can see it, and he blushes under the intensity of the other boys stare. He blushes because that is  _ not  _ a smile, or a friendly grin, that is-- that is something else. Something more. 

He isn’t sure how long they hold eye contact, but after a while it becomes too much for him and he has to look away, has to break it. He sits up straighter in his seat, no longer leaning his head on Manon’s shoulder but her arm stays around his. Absently, almost, like neither of them really realize it’s there because it just feels so  _ natural.  _

He doesn’t look at Elliot’s table again for the rest of lunch because he isn’t sure what he might get in return. He’s worried to look, worried that he might just chance it and make eye contact with Elliot again, and he doesn’t know that he wants that, so he avoids that general direction as much as he can, and it takes all of his willpower when he’s talking to Yann and Arthur not to let his eyes slip because it would be  _ so fucking easy.  _

It’s funny how a simple photo with a kitten can be just what he needed to rip the air out of his lungs. Just one of those “stunning things”. A fucking picture of Elliot holding up a brown and white kitten. He’s barely even smiling in it. Just watching it with fondness and yet, it’s breathtaking?? 

Lucas is sprawled out on the couch in the common room during his free period, half listening to Emma talk to Alexia about her not-relationship with Alex but mostly he’s just playing on his phone, and that’s when he sees it. It just  _ popped up.  _ Out of nowhere. He was scrolling and then boom, there it was. Now he can’t stop staring at it. And Elliots hands are fucking huge, okay, just  _ engulfing  _ the cat and it’s just-- it’s a lot. 

And he  _ really  _ doesn’t want to be that person who smiles at their phone but it’s hard not to. 

_ It’s a fucking kitten alright.  _ It’s precious. 

But what he’s not going to do is use this as an excuse to stalk Elliot’s account for the fucking umpteenth time because he  _ can not  _ go down that rabbit hole again, it’ll never end. 

The thing about lying down with your phone though, is that, usually, you hold it with both hands somewhere above your face, and then,  _ usually,  _ something bizarre happens, like, a ghost nudges your hand, or, there’s a random gust of wind that affects only your hands, or maybe you have some _ thing _ where your muscles spaz, but, whatever it is,  _ something  _ causes your hands to fumble and you end up dropping the phone on your face and then  _ that  _ is when disaster strikes. 

Your fingers are everywhere trying to catch it, it hits your face and maybe  _ that’s  _ what does it, but at some point between it being in your hands and you in perfect control of it, and then it falling and you having to grasp it yet again, things are pressed. Buttons are hit. 

_ Photos are liked. _

And when photos are liked, you can’t undo it. 

Then you’re just shit out of luck.

\--

\--

He’s always had an issue with falling asleep in complete silence and absolute darkness unless there’s someone in the room sleeping with him. 

When he was little, it was almost impossible for him to slip into slumber unless there was a tv playing with the volume just above inaudible. At some point his father introduced him to plugging headphones into his ipod, turning the sound as high as it would go, and then sticking them under your pillow so they’re right under your ear but not too loud. It helped to an extent, but it didn’t solve the problem with the darkness, and a night light was never enough so eventually he went back to the tv. 

As he got older and matured a bit and was no longer actively worrying about all of the weird noises that are heard at night in the dead silence and convinced that they are absolutely, without a doubt, coming from the monsters under his bed and the oddly shaped silhouettes inside his closet, he was finally able to start sleeping without some sort of sound playing, but  _ only  _ if he’s doing something right before bed and he can almost immediately fall asleep when he’s done. 

Usually, he’s playing on his phone up until the point that he can’t possibly bare to keep his eyes open for a minute longer and  _ then  _ he puts it down, turns away from the dimly shaded lamp that lights up a small portion of his room, and he closes his eyes. 

Currently, it’s 1:30 am on Tuesday night. Or, Wednesday morning, he guesses, and he just finished his homework about 15 minutes ago, went about his nightly routine and then climbed into bed. 

He’s already extremely tired and he really didn’t anticipate his homework taking so long, but it did. 

He’s so tired, in fact, that he feels like he could fall right asleep without even having to play on his phone at all. 

And he almost does, really, but when he plugs it into the charger and the screen lights up to indicate that he’s gaining battery, it’s hard not to look at the notification that pops up. 

**_srodulv_ ** _ started following you. _

And, fuck. How the hell is he supposed to sleep after that?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE FEEDBACK AND PLEASE CONTINUE IT, PLEASE. i'm loving it so incredibly much and it's making me feel amazing and i really can't thank you all enough for all the love you've shown. I know i've been super horrible at replying to comments but i'm on it, i swear! thank you again, so so so fucking much. you all are great.

He’s hyper aware of his surroundings when he goes to school the next morning, constantly on the lookout for Elliot. He never makes it obvious that he’s searching for him, at least, he doesn’t  _ think  _ he’s making it obvious, but he finds himself multiple times throughout the day checking over his shoulder, looking out the windows of his classrooms, staring across the tables during lunch but not once is he lucky enough to catch a glimpse. It appears Elliot isn’t at school today. 

Thursday, however, proves to be a different story because he seems to be  _ everywhere.  _ Every corner Lucas turns, every time he looks up in the hallways, every time he walks out of his classes Elliot is just  _ there. Somewhere.  _ And he’s never looking at Lucas, they never make eye contact, but he just seems to be a conveniently constant presence throughout the day. 

Nothing has happened since he followed Lucas the other night. He hasn’t posted anything, he hasn’t liked any of  _ Lucas’  _ photos. There’s been no form of contact whatsoever, which, Lucas can’t really say he’s  _ surprised  _ about, because he didn’t really expect Elliot to just fawn all over him and blow up his notifications, but, he doesn’t know, maybe he was expecting something different than  _ this.  _

Though, it’s really not even been a whole 48 hours. 

 

On Friday he’s leaning against his lockers whilst reading a text from his mom. Another scripture, go figure. He rolls his eyes and yet can’t help but to feel guilty about the way he dismisses all of her messages, especially when she’s heavy in one of her periods and the only thing she says to him is straight out of the bible. He’s not religious - hasn’t been in years. When he was little his family did the whole thing - church every sunday, prayers before every meal, prayers before bed. Then things got complicated, shit happened, they stopped going. The older Lucas got, the worse things within his family got, the more he started to doubt religion and his faith in God. Then things got  _ even worse _ , his mother  _ went back  _ to church after his father left and with everything, Lucas had since decided it wasn’t worth it. He didn’t believe it. It didn’t do anything for him, and the whole idea of it was ridiculous anyways. 

He’s not religious. He doesn’t even know what half the stuff his mother sends him means. 

So he does what he always does - deletes the messages. Then  he pockets his phone and looks up to see Manon walking towards him - an immediate calming presence, and he takes a breath. “Hey,” 

Since he’s known her, she’s had a way of knowing exactly what he needs and when he needs it. She knows when to push, when to press for information,  when to chastise him and when to back off. She knows when he’s sad and wants company but won’t admit it, when he’s sad and doesn’t want the company, just wants to be alone. She knows when he needs a hug, when to remind him once again that  _ she’s there,  _ he has her, she isn’t going away, but she doesn’t make him feel smothered, doesn’t breathe down his neck. 

Today she doesn’t say anything, she smiles her comforting  _ Manon Smile  _ and wraps her arms around his neck, a hand on the back of his head and he feels the tension sooth out of him even more. When she pulls back she asks how he is, to which he just shrugs and she gently wipes a few fallen strands of hair from his forehead. With anyone else, he’d roll his eyes, duck out of the way and act annoyed, but not with her, no. Never with her. 

“Do you have plans tonight?” She asks, adjusting her bag on her shoulder and stepping out of the way for a couple of passing students. 

He shakes his head, “No, I was planning on staying in,” no matter how many fucking times his friends might beg him to go to whatever parties are happening tonight, he’s not doing it. He’s not feeling it. 

“Movie night?” She raises her eyebrows when she asks because she already knows exactly what he’s going to say, and he never turns down a movie night. 

Pulling his phone out, his lips split into a toothy grin and he says, “You tell the girls, I’ll get the guys,” 

“Deal,” she laughs, and rubs her hand on his shoulder as she walks away. 

He’ll never get over how much he fucking loves her. 

 

He’s seen the brunette from last weekend  _ at least  _ 3 times today and every time she’s just been watching him with this sweet smile on her face but also like she wouldn’t mind ravishing him. Each time he just nods awkwardly and keeps moving, never giving her the opportunity to stop and chat. There’s once when he almost wasn’t lucky enough and she did actually catch him for a second but fortunately Basile had been walking by at just the right moment and Lucas  _ just had  _ to chat with him about something  _ very important  _ and so she let him go. 

It was a close one.    
  
  


During his free period, instead of lounging about in the common room with Alexia and Emma like they usually do, today they enlisted his help in hanging up flyers around the school. Emma stole Alex out of class to help her, and they took one side of the building while Alexia and Lucas took the other. Together, the pair saunter down the hallways, Lucas carrying the stack of papers and holding each one to the wall as Alexia tapes them. He didn’t know her very well before, he had seen her around school, knew who she was and all, but had never really talked to her until he became close with the other girls, and when Lucas came out she helped him quite a bit, having been the only one in their group who truly understood what it was like and what he was going through. They’re still not as close as he is with, say, Daphne, but they’re getting there, and they’re friends, and Lucas enjoys hanging out with her. He respects her for being who she is, expressing herself proudly without worries or cares about anyone else’s opinions. He looks up to her for that. 

They laugh together, joke together, she teases him about finding a boyfriend and he asks her how things are going with hers. “I think I’m gonna break up with him,” she confesses as she a rips off a piece of tape for the flyer. 

“You’re not happy?” Lucas questions, and he only asks it that way because there was something in the tone of her voice when she said what she had, something that Lucas knew all too well, he could relate to it. 

“Nah,” she tapes the last piece and they move on further down the hallway. “He’s been weird ever since he found out I was bi,” 

“Weird how?” 

She stops walking and looks around for prying eyes or nosy ears, and then she shifts a bit closer to him, lowering her voice. “I don’t know, it’s like..he asked me to have a threesome, and I only agreed to it if I could pick who it was with, and when I chose another guy he freaked out about it and got really jealous. Like he didn’t even register the possibility of me not picking a girl, which he would have been fine with,” Lucas nods along, humming. “It’s hard for him to comprehend that just because I like girls too, doesn’t mean that he’s just going to have 2 girlfriends now, you know? Or always have sex with 2 girls when we do do this,” 

“Are you..okay? I mean, are you upset about it?” 

She looks up at him with a soft grin, “No, not really. I kinda just want to be free right now,” 

They chat a bit more about it as they round the corner to see Emma and Alex standing in the hall and talking to another student, one of Alex’s friends, Lucas guesses, judging by how bored and unimpressed Emma looks at the moment. As they get closer, the more he can see of the 5th person and once he realizes that it’s fucking Elliot, they’re too close. He can’t just turn around and go the opposite way because that’ll look weird. 

So the two trudge on, getting closer and closer and once Emma sees them it’s over. There’s no way of escaping now. The only good thing that comes after she announces their presence is that she leaves the other two boys by themselves and meets Lucas and Alexia halfway, though at this point they’ve already caught Elliot’s attention and he turns his head over his shoulder and makes instant eye contact with Lucas. It’s short - not even a couple of seconds really because Emma is addressing him and Alex is addressing Elliot and they both have to look away, but for the small amount of time that it was, it was enough to wake the butterflies in Lucas’ stomach and get them flying again. 

He and the girls stand a few feet behind, talking about this and that, a bunch of trivial shit and mostly it’s just Emma and Alexia because Lucas is too busy staring at Elliots back. Taking in the way his hair is still big from behind, still looks just as soft and fluffy as it does from the front. His eyes trail down Elliot’s back, observing and appreciating everything about him; the muscles that are seen through his shirt, the way his sleeves are pushed up to his elbows and exposing his veiny arms that disappear into his pants pockets. The way his legs are crossed at the bottom, his foot slung over the other one as he leans into the lockers beside him. 

Lucas doesn’t know how long he stares, how long he admires from afar but he zones out, he knows that, because he always zones out when he looks at Elliot. This time what snaps him out of it is the sound of the other two boys’ hands clapping together, doing the whole “bro hug” thing and then they’re both walking in his direction. Alex stops but Elliot keeps going, passing by them all but his eyes never leaving Lucas’. Not once. Not until he has to and they’re just completely out of view from each other. 

Lucas knows his face is flushed, he can feel how fucking hot it is, knows that he probably looks like a fucking lobster but he can’t force himself to care. No way.

\--

\--

Everyone starts arriving for movie night at approximately 20h. Each person brings a snack and a drink that they all share with each other, as per usual for movie night, and Lucas, Manon and Mika have all set up the living room so that everyone will be comfortable no matter where they sit. 

They end up watching _La Promesse de I’Aube_ because Imane and Lucas have both already seen it but no one else has and they thought it would be a good night for it. 

Lucas settles on the couch with Manon and Daphne, Yann and the boys are in the floor in front of the couch, Mika and Emma are curled up on the love seat, and Alexia and Imane are slotted together in front of them. Everyone’s got their popcorn, got their candy and their drinks, they’re ready to go. 

2 hours and 11 minutes later, and the credits are rolling. Everyone’s sitting up, stretching, yawning, checking their phones. It’s only a little past 22h30 so they turn the lights on, Mika asks if anyone’s up for a game of Apples to Apples and there’s a mixed chorus of yes’s and no’s, and definitely everyone groaned when he suggested it but they all ended up spreading out around the living room anyways because it was still a bit early, no one wanted to leave just yet and it was something to do. 

Usually when they play, they forgo finding the logical comparisons to whatever the green card is, and they go with whatever would be the funniest - whatever would make the  _ least  _ sense, and it’s typically based on who the judge is. 

Some would say it’s a child’s game and that no group of high schoolers gather around to play on a  _ friday night,  _ of all days, but Lucas has never played this and  _ not  _ laughed so hard he nearly cries. 

It’s not really important where you are or what you’re doing, but it’s more about who you’re with. 

Lucas is happy with who he’s with.    
  
  


After about an hour of playing, it’s back to Lucas’ turn to judge, and he pulls out his phone while waiting on everyone to pick their cards. He checks a few messages, scrolls through instagram, and maybe he looks at Elliot’s profile to see if he’s posted anything new, which,  _ it’s about fucking time,  _ he has. 

And  _ fuck.  _ Lucas wishes he hadn’t done this. There’s no way he’s getting through the night now without seeing this every fucking time he closes his eyes. 

It’s a picture of Elliot sitting on some brick wall, a balcony of sorts, Lucas doesn’t know, but there’s a nice view behind him so he’s obviously high up on something. He’s sitting on it, sporting a black t shirt, his jean clad legs are spread and his arms are out beside him. 

There are so many things about this picture that catch Lucas’ attention. Big things, small things. Everything. The fucking veins in his arms, the tattoos,  the way his hair is sticking up, the jacket wrapped around his waist, his pants short and cuffed. His tiny fucking grin to the camera.  _ He’s beautiful.  _

Lucas contemplates liking it, he goes back and forth between, “do it, you only live once, what’s the harm?” and, “he’s definitely going to think you’re a stalker, especially after you’ve stared at him all week.” In the end, he chooses not to, thinking that he can always change his mind and go back to it later to like it if he regrets it. 

“Hellooo,” Mika sings into his ear and,  _ oh yeah,  _ he was doing something. He looks up as he sets his phone on the table and everyone’s watching him in amusement. 

“What?” He asks slowly, eyes shifting to each person’s gaze. 

Yann inclines his head, eyes shining with gaiety, “What are you looking at?” 

“Mmm..nothing..” Lucas trails off, feeling his face warm up. He glances down at his phone and then back up to his friend. 

“You sure?” There’s a teasing hint to his tone, like he knows exactly what Lucas was looking at, but Lucas knows that’s impossible because he hasn’t told  _ anyone,  _ not a single person about his crush and it’s going to stay that way. He’d never hear the fucking end of it. 

“Why do you--” 

“Oh, come on, kitten,” Mika tsks with a knowing smirk, “No one smiles at their phone  _ like that  _ for nothing.” 

“I wasn’t--” He looks over at Manon, ready to plea for help but as he sees the look on her face, the merriment, the razz, he knows it’s a lost battle. He’s alone on this one. “Fuck you guys,” he grumbles half heartedly, relenting, hiding his face by looking down and everyone breaks into laughter around him. 

He was wrong earlier. He is  _ not  _ happy with who he’s with.    
  
  


He really should stop staying up so late on instagram while he lies in bed at night. Especially after he’s been drinking. Really, it’s a recipe for disaster if you ask him. 

Around 23h they broke out the vodka. Imane and Emma left shortly before that, each nearly breaking their curfew but they both texted to assure they got home okay and on time. It wasn’t long after that that Mika decided they do shots, and it escalated from there. 

Now it’s around 3 am and he’s lying here with a snoring Yann passed out next to him. Alexia and Daphne are crashed in Manon’s room with her, Arthur and Basile are on the pull out in the living room, and Mika’s in his own. 

Lucas really isn’t even  _ drunk.  _ Tipsy, per se. Just enough for him to feel it, but not enough for him to use as an excuse for any rash decisions he might make. It’s liquid courage, at the most. That’s it. 

1 hour ago Lucas posted a photo. Yann holding up a peace sign, Manon smiling, Lucas doing some weird smolder thing where he’s furrowing his eyebrows but also raising one of them and he’ll regret the face tomorrow but for right now it’s not important. What’s important is the notification that he’s staring at right now on his phone screen. 

**_srodulv_ ** _ liked your photo.  _

The first time it happened he was shocked. But it could be explained. There could be a good reason behind it. Obviously Elliot was scrolling through his own instagram and he saw the photo, said, “eh, what the hell,” and double tapped. That was good. 

But then. 

**_srodulv_ ** _ liked your photo. _

**_srodulv_ ** _ liked your photo. _

**_srodulv_ ** _ liked your photo. _

**_srodulv_ ** _ liked your photo. _

And they just kept fucking coming. Just kept happening. And the thing was, though, is that there was time between each one. He wasn’t just clicking, scrolling, clicking, scrolling without barely glancing. A notification would pop up, there’d be at least like 30 seconds, depending, and then another notification would pop up. Almost like he took his time to observe and study each photo. Almost like he enjoyed looking at each photo. Almost like he-- 

No, Lucas is just silly now. He’s drunk, he’s coming up with crazy thoughts in his head, he’s overthinking it. Elliot is just liking his photos. That’s all it is. He’s just bored and said, “hey let me blow up my stalkers notifications a little,” and then that’s what he did. 

It means nothing, really. It means nothing. Why would it mean anything?

\--

\--

He’s pretty proud of himself at lunch on Monday because he’s only looked at Elliot’s table  _ 3 times  _ since they sat down, which to him is an approvement. It does help that Elliot hasn’t sat down himself yet.

He starts eating his green beans because he dislikes them the most out of everything on his plate and you know you have to knockout the vegetables first before you start on the good stuff. Though he doesn’t know if he’d technically call any of this food “good”, more like, passible. 

Basile starts on about this girl he met online and the guys inevitably tease him about her, joking about her being real or not, telling him to be careful because it could just be a 50 year old man behind a screen but Baz  _ insists  _ she is who she says she is. 

Elliot doesn’t end up joining his regular table for lunch and Lucas is good not to keep searching around the entire cafeteria until he spots him.

As they’re finishing eating and Lucas is gathering his things to get up, take his tray and head out, Arthur calls, 

“Hey, Lulu,” and he stands up, eyes finding his friends’, “Remember that brunette from the party?” Lucas nods,  _ how could he forget.  _ Instead of saying anything else, Arthur nods his head behind them and Lucas swivels around on his feet just to come face to face with the girl in question. 

“Hi!” She greets him all cheery and overly excited and the joy in her voice is every bit as evident as it’s been every time she’s greeted him. 

“Uh, hi,” 

She bounces her entire body when she talks to him, like she just can’t contain herself. “How are you?” 

“I’m..good,” he admits slowly, “How are you?” He doesn’t understand the point of the conversation. 

“Good! I wanted to ask if you’d like to see a movie this weekend,” she looks down his entire body, checking him out, biting her lip, gauging his reaction, and he sighs internally as she goes on, “I mean, it doesn’t necessarily have to be a movie, I just thought we could do  _ something  _ because…” whatever else she’s saying, he doesn’t hear. He’s too distracted, too focused on the figure behind her, feet away. 

Elliot’s standing by the wall on the other side of the room, casually leaning against it all cool like, his body facing outwards as he talks to Idris. Well, as Idris talks to him. He doesn’t really seem to be listening, he’s just staring at Lucas all intense like. Hardly blinking, not really making a certain facial expression except for the teeny tiny upturn of his lip. And that’s all it is for a few moments, just them staring at each other and Lucas not even trying to focus on what Chloe is saying to him because if truth be told, her voice is kind of ruining this moment for him but whatever. 

Just as it becomes too much, just as Lucas is about to break it and look away like he did last week when this happened, Elliot winks at him. He fucking winks. It’s not a twitch, it’s not a squint. It’s a fucking  _ wink.  _ It’s very clearly, despite their distance, a wink! 

Elliot just winked at him! 

Lucas’ face is red, he’s knows it is because there’s no way that it’s not. He’s positive that he’s never blushed so hard in his fucking life. His entire body is heating up. This time it really is too much and he looks away, looks down, looks out the window, looks anywhere but at the boy standing by the wall. 

“Lucas? Are you okay?” 

Shit, Chloe. 

He adjusts the strap on his bookbag, looks back at her, “I’m sorry, I can’t this weekend,” he says, “Uh, I really have to go,” and he slips by before she can protest. He feels bad about it, he does, and he figures he should probably find some way to slip into their next interaction that he is, in fact, gay. Even though it’s not like it was a secret. Everyone at school knows it by now, all she has to do is ask around about him. Still, he can’t help but feel like he should tell her himself, just in case. And he will, for sure, but for right now he’s too busy with something else.

His eyes are on their own accord when they glance back over at Elliot as he’s walking out and the guy is fucking smirking at him, watching him in amusement. He’s enjoying this. He knows what he’s doing and he’s getting a fucking kick out of it. 

Fuck. 

\--

\--

When he gets home that afternoon he goes straight to his room. He’s tired, he’s grumpy, he got two more texts from his mom and one from his dad that he doesn’t even want to  _ think  _ about thinking about. He just wants to sleep. 

So he throws his things by his door, slides out of his pants and shirt and into the warmth of his bed, pulling the blankets over his head and blocking out the rest of the world. 

When he wakes up later that night, past sunset and having missed dinner, he’ll find his phone and check his notifications, and he’ll see one from instagram, one that’ll actually make his heart stop beating. One that’ll cause him to choke on his air when he breathes in in shock. One that’ll give him a headache because he’ll think about it too hard, too much. 

But one that will make him feel things he’s never felt in his entire life. Feel joy like it’s his first time.

 

**_srodulv_ **

_ You’re beautiful when you blush.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i know next to nothing about french cinematography & i hope i did okay with that. Let me know what you think!!


	3. Chapter 3

**_srodulv_ **

_ You’re beautiful when you blush. _

What the fuck is he supposed to respond to that?  _ Oh, thank you _ ?? 

The thing about Lucas is, he sucks at replying. There’s no one in this world worse at it than he is. And it’s not even that he doesn’t enjoy talking to people, he does, he just doesn’t enjoy thinking of responses. It gives him the  _ worst  _ anxiety and he has no idea why. He sits there, thinking of what he’s going to say, if it’s going to sound dumb, if he’s going to mess up somewhere typing it and then he ends up looking illiterate, if it’s going to be interesting enough for the person to  _ want  _ to continue chatting with him. And he puts it off for so long that sometimes it’s hours,  _ days,  _ even, before he sends a response and then that usually puts off a certain wave of  _ him  _ being uninterested and it’s just a whole thing. 

And if he replies to one message then there’s most likely going to be one in return, so then he has to go through it  _ all over again  _ and it’s just easier for him to not read the messages and act like he never received them. 

And he does this with everyone, Yann, Manon, it doesn’t matter how close he is to the person, he sucks at replying to messages and that’s that. 

All of that explains why he decides not to click on Elliot’s message and instead will go on about his business so that he doesn’t have to deal with it. 

It’s logical reasoning. 

\--

\--

The next day at school as he walks through the gates he spots his friends standing in a circle around their usual area in the mornings and he bee lines, heading their way just as someone walks straight into his path and bumps into him. 

“Fuck, bro, my bad” they apologize right away and when Lucas looks catches a glance at the person the first thing he thinks is,  _ fuck.  _ It’s really not even as big a deal as he’s making it, like, he really shouldn’t be anywhere as nervous about this as he is because it’s  _ not  _ Elliot, and as long as it’s not Elliot then it shouldn’t matter. But it’s Elliot’s best friend, and as soon as Lucas realizes that he just ran into fucking Idriss, he whips his head around in search for the one person he’s hoping  _ not  _ to see, which, luckily, he’s safe. “Hey,” the other guy starts, drawing out the word and eyeing him curiously, “Lucas, right?” 

Obviously he can’t see his own reflection right now, but he’s absolutely certain that he  _ definitely  _ looks like a deer in the headlights. Eyes wide, lips parted in an ‘O’. He gulps, not sure how to respond even though  _ that’s his name, right? Lucas?  _

“Uh,” is all he can force out before he eventually just settles on a small nod. 

Idriss grins and introduces himself, “Sweet, man. Idriss.” He holds out a hand and Lucas stares at it for at least 5 seconds before it dawns on him what’s actually happening and he hesitantly brings up his own hand to shake it. “Heard a lot about you,” 

_ What?  _ His throat is dry as he barely manages to choke a stammered, “M-me?” 

“Mhm,” Idriss nods, like it’s so normal, like it’s completely obvious, like, why wouldn’t he know all about Lucas? “Yeah, Imane never shuts up about you,” he laughs easily and friendly and Lucas can pinpoint the exact moment the blood started pulsing through his body again. Imane, of course. Duh. Who else? “Anyways dude, I gotta get to class. Cool meeting you though!” Lucas couldn’t bring himself to do much but just watch as he goes, in a mix of aw, confusion, God knows what else. 

It takes Yann calling his name from halfway across the lot for Lucas to get his shit together and he continues on that way. “Was that Idriss?” The boys ask when he nears them and Lucas naturally looks back for the other guy but doesn’t see him. 

“Um, yeah, I ran into him,” 

“Hey you know, he’s a third year. You get in good with him and I bet we’d get invited to some pretty killer parties,” Arthur suggests, smirking enthusiastically and Lucas doesn’t want to have to tell him that he’s literally never been least interested in doing something. So he just inclines his head like it’s a good idea and purses his lips, not commenting. 

  
  


He’s sitting in his science class, working on something with Imane and trying to contribute best he can when she allows him to. He considers her as she works and he contemplates asking her what he’s been dying to ever since last week. He doesn’t have much of an option to think more about it when she sets her pencil down with a loud tap and says, “Lucas. Either say what you need to say or to stop staring at me, you’re creeping me out.” 

His first instinct is to defend. Deny everything. Furrow his eyebrows at her and tell her that he has no idea what she’s talking about, but he’s never really been great at fooling Imane because she’s way too smart for that, and he begrudgingly sighs. “You know Elliot, right?” He asks quietly, barely above a whisper as he nervously fiddles his thumps in his lap. 

“Elliot Demaury?” He nods once. “Why?” 

“I don’t know,” he mutters, shrugging his shoulders and biting the corner of his lip. “Just wondering,” 

Imane examines him for a few moments, sitting up straighter in her seat and answering, “Yeah, I know him okay,” 

“What’s he like?” 

She thinks about it, looking up at the ceiling as she searches for words, and then she focuses her attention back on Lucas. “Do you know when you see a dog on the street, like, a german shepherd, or a pit bull, something that looks really intimidating and so you hesitate to go near it because you think it’ll bite you? Because you assume that it might, just by looking at it?” He nods, not really sure what this has to do with anything. “Okay, and then you decide to go up to the dog and chance it anyways and you find out that it’s actually just a golden retriever trapped inside the body of a stereotypically aggressive breed?” 

“Uh..yeah?” 

Imane smiles as she thinks of the other boy, “That’s Elliot. He looks intimidating and unapproachable, but really he’s a child trapped inside an 18 year olds body.” 

Lucas can’t help but to wonder about the relationship between the two because he’s never heard Imane speak so kindly about another person before - not even any of the girls. Maybe Elliot’s just got that effect on people. 

A golden retriever trapped inside a pitbulls body. 

\--

\--

It’s been 2 days since Elliot’s message and Lucas has yet to respond. At first it was about not having a reply good enough for such a message, good enough for the person  _ behind  _ the message, but now he fears that he’s waited too long and it’s probably pointless now. 

He decides it’s time to swallow his pride and knock on Manon’s door for some advice. He’ll be completely vague about, totally unclear and super nonchalant and she’ll have no idea what the actual situation is or who he’s talking about. 

He waits for a quiet, “Come in,” before he cracks the door open and peeks his head in. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

Without saying anything, her cheeks dimple and eyes crinkle, she scoots over slightly in her spot on the bed, pats the space next to her for him to join. He settles in next to her, but facing her direction instead of leaning on the headboard like she is. “My, uh-- my  _ friend,  _ he was asking me about this thing that happened to him and I wasn’t really sure what to tell him so I thought I’d ask you..” She peers at him curiously and he’s back to twiddling his thumbs, picking at the skin around his fingernails. He avoids eye contact. “So, this  _ friend,  _ he-- well, um,” he takes a breath and decides to start over. Just go straight into it, no beating around the bush. “If someone randomly messages you, and you’ve never spoken to them before, but they tell you that you look beautiful when you blush, what do you say back?” 

He tried to look into Manon’s eyes near the end of it, but her gaze is too searching, too strong and he knows that as soon as she looks into his blue irises she’ll know. He keeps his head down as she asks, “This..friend of yours, does he know the person that messaged him?” 

“Mhm,” Lucas nods, “They’ve just never spoken before but...he’s got um, a crush on the person..” God, it sounds so fucking juvenile when he says it like that.  _ A crush.  _ It’s childish, like he’s back in elementary school and his friends are teasing him for smiling at some girl on the playground. It’s ridiculous and he feels incredibly vulnerable right now just with this tiny fucking thing. 

“Well, I think your friend should just thank the person and maybe the conversation will pick up from there.” 

“Thank them?” He questions unsurely. She nods at him. “Eh.. okay.. I guess he can do that.” She smiles at him, pleased. “But..what if there’s been some time between the first message and the reply? What if he waited too long to respond?” 

Manon squints her eyes, “How long?” And when Lucas murmurs a small, “Monday..” She raises her eyebrows at him. “Monday? Well..uhm, maybe you should talk to Mika about this--” 

“ _ No! _ ” Lucas is quick to react, sticking his hands out as if to stop her, and she studies him, surprised. It’s the first time he’s looked at her since he sat down and he’s certain that she sees it written all over his face, knows he’s lying, knows he’s talking about himself, knows that he’s too embarrassed to ask Mika because Mika will inevitably make some weird, inappropriate comment and Lucas doesn’t want that. “I mean, uh,” he clears his throat, searching every crevice in his fucking brain for what to say, “He just-- I don’t want to bother him, and-- I don’t know, you’re better at this stuff.” 

Manon sighs and takes his hands in hers, “Lucas, tell your friend to just be himself, okay? That’s the most important thing. Be himself. Whatever feels right to reply, whatever feels most like him, whatever feels good, just be himself.” 

It’s not exactly the advice he was looking for, but he takes it anyways and appreciates it nonetheless. “Thank you, Manon,” and he means it. 100% percent sincere. 

\--

\--

So he doesn’t listen to his best friend/flatmate. But it turns out he doesn’t have to. On Thursday he’s sitting in the common room during free period, and he’s actually doing homework today. Studying for a test. His books are spread out around him, he’s writing his notes down on his paper and he’s completely in the zone. He’s on a roll. He’s going. 

But then his phone vibrates in his pocket and he doesn’t have enough willpower to ignore it, so he reaches in there, grabs it, almost drops it like he’s playing fucking hot potato. 

**_srodulv_ **

_ So what’s it going to take for you to talk to me?  _

Truthfully, and this is just as shocking to him as it would be anyone else, but he is not totally surprised that Elliot messaged him again. Not after what happened earlier today. 

When Lucas was leaving one his classes he was walking with Daphne down the hallway and they had passed by Elliot, who was leaning against his fucking lockers like he always is, damnit, and Lucas wasn’t going to look - wasn’t going to give in, but he could just  _ feel  _ those damn blue eyes on him, boring into him like fucking lazers, like they were burning into his soul, and so yeah, he looked up, and he made the fucking contact and he doesn’t regret it for a second. Not one. 

Especially not when Elliot fucking cocked his head at him?? Nodded at him?? One of those “Sup?” head things that people do. 

Was Elliot saying “Sup?” to him? Why? 

Lucas didn’t react much, he never does, he just freaking blushed again, imagine that. 

And now here he sits. Staring down at his phone. Contemplating another message. He has to reply to this one, though, right? He can’t fuck this up for himself. 

Okay, he can do this. He’s got this. He clicks on the message, reads it, so now it’s definitely too late and he has no choice but to reply unless he just wants to look like a dick. 

**_lucallemant_ **

_ I don’t know what you mean. _

Cool, be cool. Don’t play dumb, but more.. _ oblivious.  _

**_srodulv_ **

_ Haha, okay.  _

_ I guess we’ll just continue to stare at each other from across the room and that will be the extent of our relationship, then? _

Dang it. 

Wait,  _ relationship? _

**_lucallemant_ **

_ Since when are we in a relationship? _

**_srodulv_ **

_ :) _

_ Are you busy tomorrow night? _

Be cool, Lucas. Don’t look desperate. 

**_lucallemant_ **

_ Depends. _

**_srodulv_ **

_ On? _

He smiles to himself, exiting out of the app and pocketing his phone. 

Studying is important. He should really get back to it if he wants to pass this test.

  
  


When he gets home that afternoon he’s way more cheery than usual. Ignoring the weird looks coming from his flatmates, he offers to make dinner. 

“Eh..okay,” Mika accedes, skeptical. 

Pasta’s easy and it’s really the only thing he knows how to cook so he makes that because he knows he’s good at it. He puts on some water to boil, starts humming about in the kitchen, puts on some music to listen to. At some point Manon comes in and stands in the doorway to watch him and he reaches out a hand to her, an invitation to dance. She accepts it kindly, without hesitance, and there they are, in the middle of the kitchen, hand in hand as Lucas twirls her around and feels nothing but sheer joy when she laughs out loud. 

“You’re in a surprisingly good mood,” she tells him, and he tilts his head. 

“Am I not allowed to be?” 

She shakes her head softly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “It’s nice to see you happy,” Lucas turns around to stir the noodles, add in some more salt and then stick some bread in the oven. He doesn’t say anything to that, only winks at her and she rolls her eyes fondly. 

Dinner is good, as much as Mika would like to tease him that it’s not. Afterwards they all help to clean up and then settle in the living room for a movie. As much as Lucas loves their big movie night, with all of their friends gathered around and piled in, he also has a special place in his heart for nights with just the three of them. Quiet, intimate. It’s nice. He knows that with these people he’ll always have a place, he’ll always have a family and love and support. He’ll always give the same to them. 

\--

\--

There’s some last minute party at one of the third years houses that everyone was invited to. As always, he wasn’t jumping at the idea of going, but as always, he was able to be convinced and eventually gave in. So at 22h on Friday he finds himself sitting in the floor with the girls in the corner of whoevers living room as he plays some game opposite Alexia. 

There’s a beer bottle in the floor with the cap set on top of it and they’re taking turns tossing a bent cap at it, trying to knock it off the top. It’s the last round and currently it’s a tie, which is an achievement to Lucas because he’s the least sober one out of all of them and he’s still doing pretty great. It’s Alexia’s turn, and right before she goes, she puts her hand up to Imane’s mouth for the latter to blow on it for good luck, and then she shoots. Scores. Wins. Wraps her arms around Imane in glee and then turns to do the same with Daphne. Lucas can’t help himself as he reaches across to hug her as well. 

“Good game,” he shakes her hand and laughs as she bows. 

“Thank you, thank you,” 

“Alright,” he stands up and stretches, “I’m gonna go wash my hands,” he’s not sure how but they’re sticky with beer and he can’t stand the feeling of it or the smell, so he makes his way to the strangers kitchen, goes about lathering up and rinsing off. He rips off a paper towel to dry his hands, unaware of the person standing directly behind him and when he turns around it almost makes the third time in two weeks that he runs into someone but he stops himself just in time, inhaling a shaky breath as he stares up at Elliot, inches away from him. “Um,” he stutters, gulping. 

It’s fucking nerve wracking being this close. It’s nerve wracking being in the same vicinity as Elliot at all but it’s even harder when you’re almost pressed up against him because he’s standing so close and you have nowhere to go, nowhere to turn. He’s cornered. 

“So,” Elliot speaks, and  _ fuck.  _ His voice. His damn voice. Just one little word and Lucas already feels like his knees are going to collapse. He grips the counter behind him for support, for something to lean into. “Found you.” 

“Were you looking for me?” He thanks whatever Gods that are listening that his own voice doesn’t come out nearly as nervous and telling as he feels. 

The taller boys’ lips part into a grin and he shrugs, “Seeing as you never responded to my message yesterday, I figured I had no choice.” 

“I was busy,” Lucas nods, offering a weak smile. It’s the best he can do, he’s so fucking anxious. 

Elliot hums, smirking, leaning in closer and he brings his arm up to reach for something behind Lucas’ head, which the smaller boy slightly leans away from because he isn’t sure what exactly is happening. 

Lucas swallows, his eyes latched onto Elliot’s best he can but the guy keeps shifting his gaze down to Lucas’ lips and then back up again. “I..should get back to my friends,” 

The older boy doesn’t respond right away, but he eventually steps to the side, opening the distance between their bodies so Lucas can go. He licks his lips, Lucas’ eyes trace the movement and he isn’t sure why he said that, he regrets it as soon as it leaves his mouth but it’s out now and he has to follow through with it. He allows himself a few more moments where he is and then he steps forward, bypassing the third year and exiting the kitchen. 

  
  


He doesn’t know what time it is, doesn’t know how long he’s been at the party, doesn’t know if it’s ending anytime soon, he just knows that he’s a little tipsy and he’s dancing with the girls in the center of the crowd. It’s been at least a few minutes, maybe a lot, since they dragged him out here but he doesn’t mind. He feels care-free, not a worry in the world as he just lets himself loose - lets himself go. 

There’s some pop song playing, something he’s heard before but he doesn’t know the name of it. It’s not something he’d choose to listen to, but it’s catchy, he’ll give it that. 

It’s when his hands are clasped with Daphne’s and they’re doing some weird body sway thing where they’re just moving back and forth and she’s swinging their arms up and down that he feels eyes on him. He doesn’t have to think about it to know whose they are, or which direction they’re in. He knows. And all he has to do is turn his and Daphne’s bodies just a bit, look behind her head and he’s found them. 

_ Elliot.  _

He’s sitting on the couch with his Idriss and Sofiane, passing a joint back and forth with the former while the latter just sits between them. 

When Lucas was watching Elliot from afar, back before Elliot had any idea who he was, back before they made any sort of eye contact at all, Lucas doesn’t remember Elliot’s gaze being this intense before. He doesn’t remember ever seeing Elliot just shamelessly and so obviously staring at someone. He doesn’t remember ever seeing such a predatorial look on his face. He doesn’t remember seeing  _ this.  _

There’s this simultaneous feeling of wanting to hide, wanting to curl up into a ball, shying away and just cover himself up, and then just wanting to stand here and take it all, completely expose himself and give into whatever Elliot wants. 

It’s clear that the older boy finds it amusing the effect he has on Lucas. He’s got this fucking smug expression written all over his gorgeous face, cockiness coming off of him in waves, but not to the point where it’s unattractive, where it turns Lucas off or away. It pulls him in. It makes him want more.

It also scares the hell out of him. 

He wishes that he were brave enough to approach. He wishes he were brave enough to do some cute, flirty shit and lure him out onto the makeshift dance floor. Or to even be around him for longer than 30 seconds and not turn into a coward and run off. He wishes he felt like he was actually good enough to breathe the same air as Elliot. 

Elliot, who hangs the fucking moon; who has guys and girls alike worshiping his every move; who can have literally any person that he desires. 

Elliot, who’s walking towards Lucas right now,  _ fuck.  _

They never take their eyes off of each other as he excuses himself past people, his skinny body making it easy for him to just slip through, and then he’s right there. And he’s not stopping. He leans in close to Lucas’ ear, whispers loud enough for the boy to hear but nobody else, “You coming?” and then walks on, never turning around to check if Lucas follows or not - he just knows. 

And Lucas watches his retrieving body slip out the balcony door. 

Fuck, he has to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr @spn-skam :)
> 
> also i'd just like to point out that i hold no stereotypes against pitbulls, heh


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if any of you watch supernatural, have some fluff to heal the wounds that tonights season finale will most definitely cause :) I am fully prepared to have my heart ripped out.

Elliot’s leaning against the balcony railing, watching the street below him as cars pass by and people begin their nightly strolls. He doesn’t turn around when he hears the door slide open, or when Lucas tentatively puts his hands on the cold metal to join him. 

“It’s a breathtaking view, no?” 

Lucas hums. “Really,” 

Elliot smiles, “You should see it during sunrise,” He still hasn’t looked at Lucas since they’ve been out here, but with this comment, Lucas turns a questioning gaze on him. 

“You come here often?” He internally cringes as soon as the words leave his mouth because it sounds like a bad pick up line. 

“Mhm,” Elliot breathes, “It’s Alain’s place,” 

Alain, as in one of the 4 guys that Elliot’s always with. 

_ Alain. _

_ Last minute party at a third years house.  _

Fucking A. 

He wants to say,  _ “Elliot, please don’t tell me you planned this entire party because I didn’t text you back,”  _ but he doesn’t. 1, it would be bold of him to assume, and 2, as crazy as it might sound to someone else, it’s oddly endearing that Elliot would go to such lengths. 

But also number 1. 

Instead he settles with a quiet, “Neat.” And in return, after several moments of silence, Elliot finally turns his head to peer at the body next to him and Lucas can tell that just by the look on his face he’s going to say something smug. 

“The view at my place is much better, though.” And there’s that fucking wink again. 

Lucas is at the point where he stops worrying about how red his face gets when he’s in situations like this because there’s no use. It’s just going to happen whether he likes it or not. Like right now, where it’s flaming hot, he can feel it, and while it’s embarrassing to think that Elliot definitely notices it, Lucas has to remind himself of the first message he received from the older boy. 

He looks beautiful when he blushes. 

Elliot outright laughs at the blanching expression on Lucas’ face and then he nudges him with his shoulder, “I’m kidding, Lucas,” he pauses, and then, “There are other steps in a relationship that you have to complete first,” 

“Like being in an actual relationship,” Lucas counters, a tiny smile playing at his lips. 

“Right,” Elliot nods, and turns his body towards his neighbor, “So what do you say?” He takes a step closer, not as close as they were in the kitchen, but close.

“To?” 

“Going out with me,” His arm on the railing slides a little towards Lucas’ as the rest of him shifts more, too.  _ Now  _ they’re that close.  _ Now  _ they’re breathing the same air.  _ Now  _ Lucas can smell the cologne Elliot’s wearing and he’d bathe in it if he had the choice. 

He opens his mouth to reply, stops, and then thinks again. “Maybe,” he settles with, and the look of surprise on Elliot’s face is worth it. He’s taken aback, not expecting that answer, and Lucas assumes that this isn’t something he gets told very often. People usually say yes without question and fall for whatever charm Elliot puts on them. 

It’s taking a lot for that not to happen with Lucas. 

“Maybe?”

“Maybe,” 

Leaning in even closer, “Any way to nudge that into something a little more concrete?” 

Lucas shrugs and it’s his turn for his lips to pull into a cocky grin, “Maybe,” he’s not sure where the confidence is coming from, where the words that are forming in his throat are coming from. But they’re there. And his body is there, too, moving on its own accord, or maybe not, maybe it’s just Lucas, either way he finds himself leaning in as well until their lips are mere centimeters apart. He doesn’t go the full distance, though, no, he stops and he hovers, and he let’s Elliot glance down at his lips multiple times, much like before. 

However, before they get anywhere, the door slides open and Idriss is sticking his head out. “Hey, uh, Elliot, need you in here,” His eyes switch back and forth between the two of them before settling on his friend. 

“Ah, okay,” Elliot agrees and Idriss sticks his head back in, closing the door so it’s just the two of them again. “I should--” 

“Yeah,” Lucas brings a hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly. It takes Elliot a couple more minutes of them staring at each other until he nods, steps away, and disappears behind the glass door into the crowd. 

\--

\--

The next morning when he wakes he barely even notices his splitting headache, he’s too busy replaying the events from the night before. 

Nothing else happened after Elliot left the balcony - it was late and when Lucas went back in it was just in time for all of his friends to be leaving. But out of everything that did happen, Lucas doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to stop thinking about it. Really,  _ he almost kissed Elliot fucking Demaury!  _ He can’t even remember how long he’s been crushing on the dude, he just knows that it’s been a fucking minute and now it feels like he’s finally winning for once. Like with everything that happened last year with his family, it’s finally getting made up for. 

He went back with Yann last night and stayed at his place, currently crashed in his bed as his friend is sprawled out next to him, a drooling, snoring mess. 

He rolls over, reaches for his phone on the nightstand and as he reads the name displayed across the screen, he doesn’t even try to hold back the smile that spreads across his face. 

**_srodulv_ **

_ Hey, sorry about skipping out last night _

**_lucallemant_ **

_ No worries _

_ Everything okay? _

**_srodulv_ **

_ Hm. _

_ Can I see you today? _

_ Yes.  _ He  wants to type,  _ please.  _ But unfortunately, duties call and he promised his mother the last time he talked to her that he would visit today. She wanted him to join her for mass tomorrow but he’d rather not, so he agreed to come the day before instead even though it’s the last thing he’s looking forward to. 

Not that he doesn’t enjoy seeing his mother, he does, he just doesn’t enjoy seeing her in this state. Or the building that she’s in. Or the people around her. It makes him uncomfortable, it makes him uneasy, it makes him feel guilty. 

**_lucallemant_ **

_ Sorry, I can’t today  _

_ Maybe I’ll see you on monday, though  _

Who is he kidding? Of course they’ll see each other on monday. Unless it’s one of those weird days that Elliot doesn’t show up, he does love to do that. 

  
  


“What’s his name?” Yann’s voice knocks him out of whatever stupor he’s in and Lucas tenses, locking his phone and sticking it under the covers. 

“Whose?”  _ Act natural.  _

“Whoever’s making you smile at your phone like that,” Yann breaths a titter, stretching out his arms and pulling the covers up to his chin. 

Lucas smirks, “A meme,” and it earns him an eye roll in response.  

“Or maybe it was the same person you disappeared with last night,” 

“I already told you that I got lost looking for the bathroom,” 

Yann huffs, his voice drenching in distrust; challenging, “For 30 minutes? In a 2 bedroom apartment?” 

Fuck. Okay. Lucas squints his eyes and tries to be as convincing as possible even though he knows there’s no point. “The hallway was confusing..it was like a maze.” When Yann looks like he’s going to argue Lucas sits up, cutting off his words and says, “Are you hungry? Let’s eat.” 

\--

\--

His mother stays in an assisted living facility about 30 minutes outside of the city. The place is..ominous. At least, that’s the feeling Lucas has always got when he goes. He hates everything about it there. The smells; the rudeness of the nurses and the amount of care they  _ don’t _ have for their residents; the random patients who get into his space, pull him close and whisper to him and he has no idea what they’re talking about. The entire time he’s there he feels dirty, he’s unsettled, he’s awkward and rigid and anxious and he just  _ hates it.  _

But he goes. Every other week because that’s the promise that he made himself. He knows he’s an asshole, he knows it’s inconsiderate and that he should have enough respect for his mother to go, at the least, once a week. He just..can’t make himself do it. And he can use the building itself as an excuse, the whole idea of it. He can use the fact that it hurts him to see his mom this way as an excuse, but the truth is..he doesn’t actually know what it is. He can’t tell you the God honest truth of why he fails so miserably at being a decent son, he just does. 

He waits outside the front door of the place until one of the nurses taps the code into the padlock and buzzes him in. He squirts some hand sanitizer into his palm from the dispenser on the wall and nods at the nurse by the desk in greeting. 

“She’s in the cafeteria,” the woman tells him and he forces a tight smile in thanks as he ambles down the dimly lit hallway trying his best to avoid the other patients. He passes by Mr. Rob, the man who spends his days going up and down the corridors with his broom, refusing to let anyone else touch it - one day Lucas watched him come out of his room to see another patient with the broom and he didn’t think that two old men violently going at each other was anything he’d ever witness, but he did. 

He finds his mother sitting with a couple other residents playing cards, and he stops and observes for a few moments before reluctantly heading over. 

“Hey, mama,” he says, gently putting a hand over her shoulder and squatting down next to her to match her height. Her eyes light up as soon as she sees him and he attempts to ignore the ping of guilt that stabs into his heart but it’s more difficult than he cares to admit. “How are you?” 

“Oh, I’m well,” the corners of her lips tilt softly, “I’m well,” Lucas bobs his head and returns the smile with his own, trying to look as genuine as he can muster. “And you?” 

“I’ve been good.” He looks over at the plate of food pushed to her side, “What are you eating?” 

“Nothing worth writing home about,” she jokes lightheartedly, and it helps Lucas a little bit to know that she isn’t so miserable here that she can’t find the humour in things anymore. “Pull up a chair, son, join us,” 

And so he does. He makes himself play and participate and laugh when needed, listen when spoken to, respond if necessary. And he’s not sure when but at some point he does start to enjoy himself and realizes that it’s easier than he made it out to be. 

After about 5 games of cards his mother decides that she’d like to go back to her room so Lucas says his goodbyes to her friends and walks with her back to her space. Her roommate isn’t currently there so it gives them a little bit of privacy and Lucas sits down in the recliner set in the corner next to her bed. 

“How’s school going?” She asks him as she settles onto her mattress, moving some pillows around to support her back and then running a hand through her short blonde hair. 

“Uhm, it’s going alright, about to start exams so I’ve been studying a lot.”

“Hm,” She hums and he bites the inside of his lip. “And your father?” 

“I don’t know..” He admits, looking down. He hasn’t seen his father since he left, and the only time they speak is when he’s sending Lucas money for rent and such. It’s about the only thing he’s good for, anyways. 

“Well the next time you see him--” 

“I don’t,” he interrupts and she looks at him this certain way, he can’t really describe it, he just knows he doesn’t like it. 

“Or speak to him,” she continues, and he wants to say it again -  _ I don’t,  _ but he refrains. “Tell him I’d like to see him,” 

“Sure, mom,” he resolves. 

They sit in quiet until Lucas asks if things are going okay here and she replies that they are, she’s liking it better than the last place she was at but it’s still not the same as living by herself, or with him even. 

“Do you get along okay with the other people here? You’re not having any issues with anyone?” 

“No, darling, everything’s going great,” 

She seems believable enough so he drops it, lets it go, doesn’t say anything else. 

“Um,” he rubs his palms on his knees and stands up, “I should get going, I still have a lot of studying to do, so..” his voice grows faint, eyes lingering on different items around the room so he doesn’t have to face her own. 

“Of course, baby, I understand,” she gets to her feet as well, looking him up and down before wrapping an arm around his neck. “It was great seeing you,” 

“You too, mama, I’ll come back soon,” he promises as she pats him on the back, kisses his cheek, and sends him on his way out the door. He holds it together as he travels down the hall, nods politely at the visitors he passes by, waits for the nurse to buzz him out. Even as he walks to the bus stop. 

It’s not until he’s actually on his way home, sitting in the back row and watching the street signs and building go by that he let’s the tear fall from his eye, down his face, drip off of his jaw. 

He’s no better than his father, is he? 

\--

\--

When he gets out of the shower on monday morning it’s to breakfast made by Manon and Mika. Sunday he never got out of bed and they left him alone, didn’t try to talk to him, didn’t bother him at all. But he sees their worried yet demanding faces this morning and he knows it’s unavoidable.

Accepting the plate, he scoots out his chair at the kitchen table to sit, and he chooses to act as oblivious as possible until they say something. He cuts into his crepes, takes a bite, even throws in a little “mmm” for good measure. Maybe if he just acts like everything is normal, everything is fine, then they’ll let him off the hook. Because really, Saturday may have been rough when he got back from seeing his mom, and yesterday might not have been any better, but he got it all out of his system yesterday and he’s good now. He just needed some time to himself, time to rest and get his shit together - compose himself. He’s fucking awesome today, okay? 

He should be well aware by now that his flatmates will never let things go untalked about, unfortunately. Mika sits down across from him with a glass of orange juice and stares directly at him, this creepy, penetrative stare that he does that he knows Lucas isn’t able to ignore. 

“I’m  _ fine, _ ” Lucas relents, yet insisting. They already know that he went to go see his mother, they should know that this is one of the side effects from that.

He sighs, they do know that. Of course they do. But it’s not going to stop them from checking on him. _That's_ something  _he_ should know.

“It went like it does every time. I’m an asshole and she’s still nice to me and it makes me feel worse. The only thing I can do about it is just  _ stop being an asshole  _ and I’m fucking trying okay, but it doesn’t seem to be working.” 

His flatmates share a look with each other, much like they always do when Lucas is going through shit, and then Manon sets her mug down. “Have you thought about reaching out to your dad?” 

Is that even a fucking question? “No.” Is all he says, because  _ no.  _ He talks to his dad when he needs money and that’s fucking it. That’s all he can be bothered with and his dad only sends it to feel better about himself, which Lucas is completely fucking okay with because it also means that the man feels guilty about shit and  _ he should.  _ He deserves to feel guilty. He fucking started all of this. 

And there they go, sharing that damned look again. “Kitten--” Mika starts, and Lucas pushes himself up from the table. 

“I’m going to be late for school,” 

\--

\--

“You’re a pretty hard guy to track down, you know that?” 

He’s digging around in his locker for one of his french books when suddenly there’s a hand landing on the metal inches away from his face, and if he didn’t recognize the voice immediately, he could tell just by the scents that swirl around his head and under nose. Elliot’s cologne fills the air around him. 

For someone who didn’t seem to know who Lucas was two weeks ago, he sure does seem to be looking for him a lot, no? 

“And yet you somehow always do,” 

Elliot shrugs, flits his eyebrows up once like he apparently loves to do, “I’m determined,” 

“Mm,” Lucas turns back to his locker and when he finds the book he was looking for, he adjusts the strap on his shoulder and shuts the locker door, shifting his entire body to face Elliot, resting against the metal. “So what now?” 

“Well, you’re in your free period, I’m in a class that I never go to anyways because it’s pointless…” he trails off, letting Lucas fill in the rest.

“I can’t leave,” 

“We don’t have to.” 

The shorter boy narrows his eyes. “Okay,” he acquises, “Lead the way,” 

It’s funny, when he looks at Elliot he always sees this smoldering, sexy guy, or this beautiful fucking creature that literally any Greek God would pale in comparison to, but rarely does he see an adorable little shit like right now. As soon as Lucas agrees the guy does this little  _ bounce  _ thing that’s just so fucking cute that Lucas would pay any amount of money to see it again. Or, hell,  _ be the cause of it  _ like he was now. 

“Okay,” Elliot beams bright enough that the sun would feel threatened, “Come on,” 

  
  


They end up on a patch of grass out by the football field. It’s secluded enough from the rest of the school that they shouldn’t have any worries about getting caught, unless they’re just unfortunate enough to be out here the same time one of the coaches or teachers are but Lucas doesn’t see that as a possibility. 

“So,” Elliot starts, and they’re sitting side by side, knees touching. “You know how hedgehogs got their names?” 

It’s such an odd way to start a conversation and Lucas only blinks over at the guy next to him for at least 6 wholes seconds before answering, “How?” 

“They hang around in garden hedges and grunt like pigs,” 

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes his throat. Why does Elliot know that? And why did he feel the need to share it? 

Lucas decides he doesn’t care. He’d sit here all day and listen to the other boy go on and on about random shit and weird hedgehog facts or whatever other animals he knows about. He likes hearing Elliot’s voice. He likes watching him talk. He likes everything about him. 

And so he asks Elliot to tell him something else and he does. He tells Lucas more about hedgehogs and then starts on about raccoons and Lucas listens to it all. Takes every word in. This is the adorable Elliot. The Elliot that he doesn’t show much of at school; that other people closer to him probably see a lot of; that Imane was talking about. This is the golden retriever trapped inside the pitbulls body. Lucas thinks of himself immensely lucky to see this.

He’s not sure how but at some point the conversation drifts into their friends and Elliot mentions in passing during his story about Idriss that they had been listening to dubstep. 

“Wait,” Lucas says, “Dubstep?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Is that..something that Idriss listens to?” 

Elliot shakes his head slowly, “Me,” Lucas tries to hide the smirk. He really, truly does but he just can’t. It happens and Elliot halfheartedly glares at him. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Lucas bites his lip, looking away, “Just didn’t peg you for a dubstep guy,” 

“What’s wrong with dubstep?” 

“Oh, nothing, it’s...really cool,” 

Elliot shifts to sit directly in front of him, a grin playing at his lips and his eyes searching. “Lucas,” 

The younger boy throws up his hands in defense, “Nothing! I..love dubstep,” it  _ physically  _ pains him to say it and he can’t even keep a straight face or keep his voice from cracking as he does it. 

“Hey, I stand by it,” Elliot exclaims, and when Lucas nods, still trying to hide his laughter, Elliot nudges him playfully and they both break into a fit of giggles, falling over. 

“Okay,” Lucas agrees, remaining unconvinced, his face red and stomach hurting. He locks eyes with Elliot, neither of them realizing how close they were until just now, and he sobers up almost immediately, the smile on his lips dying and he sucks in a breath. If he were to lean in, just a little bit, not even an inch, he could be there.  _ Right there.  _ Right where he’s been dying to be for months now. 

They’re both lying on the grass now, their heads pillowed in the crook of their arms and Elliot’s tongue slips out to skim across his bottom lip. Beautiful, pink. Inviting. 

Being this close, Lucas takes the time to really appreciate it. The color of his eyes, the length of his lashes, the bushiness of his brows. His skin looks unbelievably smooth, his lips soft. He was gorgeous - everything about him, every inch of him, from the slight stubble growing on his chin to the crows feet that appeared by his eyes when he smiled.  Fucking stunning. Captivating.  _ Irresistible.  _

Elliot seems to get the same idea that Lucas has because they both lean in at the same time, almost there, just a little more, and then-- 

The bell rings. The end of class, beginning of a new one. It’s becoming very annoying, the way they keep getting interrupted like this. 

He lets out a frustrated sigh and Elliot breathes a laugh, bowing his head until their foreheads are connected, he closes his eyes but Lucas keeps his open. He wants to keep all of this, everything about it, every tiny detail he wants to take in and remember it and sear it into his brain so that every time he closes his eyes he’ll be back here. 

He’s not ready when Elliot eventually pulls away. He’s not ready when Elliot stands up. He’s certainly not ready when Elliot stretches his long arms over his head and the fabric around his stomach rides up a bit, exposing his happy trail and then his belly button. 

He catches Lucas’ lingering eyes and looks rather delighted by that, smirking down at him. He reaches out his hand and Lucas stares at it for a moment before accepting it and allowing himself to be pulled up. Elliot considers him for a couple moments and raises his hand, languidly running it through Lucas’ hair, soft and gentle. When he’s done the shorter boy raises his eyebrow in a questioning manner. 

“You had a piece of grass,” Elliot explains, shrugging. 

“Okay,” Lucas says, a knowing grin playing at his lips. 

Elliot gathers his things, throws his bag and jacket over his shoulder and begins the tread back to the school until he realizes Lucas isn’t beside him, still standing in the same spot because he was too busy thinking. As many times as he's watched Elliot's retrieving back, one particular phrase comes to mind. 

_ Hate to see you leave but love to watch you go. _  Or something like that, right?

“You coming?” Elliot calls, voice warm and bringing joy to Lucas' ears. He smiles, picks up his own things and he feels light.  As shitty as the weekend was, as shitty as this morning was, right now he's happy. Right now he feels like he could actually really fucking be awesome, despite all of the other shitty things. 

He's getting there. He's got this. He didn't think he would, but he does - he's got this. It's good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for everyone who says Lucas is their most chaotic boy, have you ever heard 'Trustful Hands' by The Dø?? idk if anyone else would agree but i feel like it suits him rather well :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW BOUT THAT FUCKING DRUCK CLIP THIS MORNING, HUH? MY ENTIRE HEART RIGHT THERE.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” 

It was like a scene straight out of a movie. The kid comes home at about 3 am, sneaks in, is almost up the stairs and then all of a sudden the lamp turns on in the living room and their dad is just sitting there, in the dark, waiting on them to come home just so they could scold them and ground them for breaking curfew. 

Except in Lucas’ movie it’s not his dad, it’s Mika, and he didn’t even have a curfew to be broken because as far as the government was concerned, he was an adult. And being an adult means you’re in charge of yourself. No curfew. No bedtimes. No having to sneak in because you can stay out for as long as you want. 

Unfortunately, it’s not a parent figure that he’s having to answer to, it’s his friends. His very,  _ very  _ overprotective friends. 

“Uh, yes?” He answers, slipping out of his shoes. 

Mika looks about as disappointed as he can, almost like he’s been practising the face for however long he’s been sitting here. He’s been playing the “dad” pretty well, Lucas isn’t going to lie. 

“Two. Thirty. Seven  _ a.m, Lucas.  _ Where have you been?” He’s really packing it on tight, huh?

“I, um, I was at Yann’s. I was playing video games with the guys and we just lost track of time, how long have you been sitting here?” He asks, genuinely curious because Mika does love the dramatics. 

His flatmate waves his hand dismissively, “Irrelevant. You couldn’t call?” 

It’s about this time that they hear Manon’s bedroom door open up and then she creeps down the hallway, probably wondering what all the fuss is about. She leans against the doorway, takes one look at Mika dressed in nothing but a wifebeater, his underwear, the  _ shortest silk robe you’ve ever seen,  _ and his white bunny rabbit slippers, standing in front of the chair with the one lamp on and his arms crossed, and she sighs. 

_ Yeah,  _ Lucas thinks amused,  _ same.  _

“You know what?” Mika says before Lucas can answer his question, and he’s walking forward, flailing his arms, “We’ll talk about this in the morning, go to bed.” He squeezes past his flatmates and into his room, mumbling something incoherent about  _ kids these days  _ and then shutting his door behind him. 

Lucas looks at Manon with a raised eyebrow and she’s shaking her head, a tickled smile gracing her lips. “So really, where were you?” She asks. 

“I already told--” 

“If you were at Yann’s then you wouldn’t have come home this late, you’d have just stayed over there,"

Damn it. She’s right. 

She’s already caught him, there’s no use in trying to lie his way out of this anymore. He huffs a breath, “I was with a guy,” he confesses, but that’s all he’ll say. 

Because by “guy” he means Elliot and he’s definitely not ready to open that can of worms with her yet and especially not at nearly 3 o’clock in the morning.

She eyes him curiously, “What guy?” 

“A guy,” 

After a couple beats of her just narrowing her eyes at him and then realizing she wasn't going to get anything else out of him, she nods her head once, pushes off the wall and says, “Okay, as long as you were safe,” and then trudges down back to her room before Lucas even has a chance to protest to her assumption. 

Elliot messaged him at about 22h and asked if he wanted to hang out. Lucas was already in bed, had showered, brushed his teeth, everything, but he wasn’t going to pass up such an opportunity just because he was  _ sleepy.  _ Sleep is for chumps. And he already smelt good, his hygiene was all fresh and whatnot, so he jumped out of bed real quick, changed into something a little more attractive than the pajamas he had on, and then met Elliot at the closest bus stop where the boy was already there waiting for him. 

He took Lucas out through the woods somewhere until they came up under a bridge. He explained how it was his favorite place in the city, it’s where he went whenever he wanted to be alone, how he’d never brought anyone there before. 

“No one?” Lucas had asked suspiciously. “No one,” Elliot answered, voice completely unwavering, eyes locked into Lucas’. 

And then they spent the next 4 or so hours just sitting underneath, talking about everything and nothing. They avoided the deep and personal things regarding the other but shared more than you normally would with someone you’ve basically just met. It was funny because there was the newness of talking to an almost stranger and the feeling you get when you just meet someone and want to learn everything about them, but there was also the feeling of safety and comfortability that you’d get sitting down and talking to someone that you’ve known your entire life. It was difficult to explain. 

At some point it started pouring rain and that’s when they stopped talking - just sat there, side by side, less than inch of space between them as they listened to the beads of water hit the ground, the leaves, the concrete above them. No words needed to be said. 

And when the water stopped, when the rain cleared up and they were finally able to hear each other over the sound again, they laughed and joked and teased each other much like they did on monday during free period. 

The longer Lucas is around him, the easier it gets to just be himself. The easier it gets to fall for him more and more until eventually it’s just hopeless and Lucas realizes that he’s either going to  _ have to  _ marry Elliot and spend the rest of their lives together, or he’s just going to die. Like, actual, literal death because there’s no way he’s going to be able to live without him. No way. No fucking way. 

Eventually Lucas announced that it was time for sleep and he should probably get home, as much as he was unwilling to leave, and Elliot walked him the entire way like the lovely fucking gentlemen that he is. When it was time to part ways, they sort of just awkwardly stared at each other and laughed until Lucas said goodbye and then Elliot said goodbye and they stared at each other even more and there were a couple weird waves that Lucas isn’t really sure what happened there and then he backed himself inside with a grin on his face as big as fucking Texas. 

No kiss, no physical contact at all, really, but Lucas surprisingly doesn’t mind. It was the best night of his fucking life, no question. 

He’s never felt more alive. 

\--

\--

Thursday he’s walking home from the bus stop when his phone rings and it’s actually impossible for him to suppress the roll of his eyes when he sees that it’s his father calling. It’s really fucking shitty how one simple, tiny little thing can ruin all the good that your day was and turn it into complete and utter trash. 

“Hello?” He answers curt, emotionless, immediately on the verge of hanging right back up, just like he always is during these phone calls. 

_ “Hello, son,” _ Lucas waits on him to say something else, to get to the point of why he’s calling, to be done with this already. _ “How are you?”  _

“Great, did you need something?” 

It’s almost silent, save for the sound of the man’s breathing on the other end.  _ “I wanted to talk to you about your mother,”  _

He hates conversations with his dad. He hates them even more when they’re about this. Lucas doesn’t even want to hear her name come out of his dad’s mouth, he has no right to mention her. Neither of them do, really, but his dad has even less. “What about her?” 

_ “Would you like to meet somewhere?”  _ No. _ “ I worry this isn’t a conversation a phone call would suffice.” _

“I’m busy,” 

_ “Lucas.” _

It pisses him off that the man still has the audacity to use his “father” voice even though he hasn’t stepped into that roll for a hot fucking minute now. But it pisses Lucas off even more when he can’t disobey, no matter how much he wants to, he  _ just can’t.  _

“Fine,” he unwillingly relents. “Where?” 

_ “Maybe I can stop by your--”  _

“No. We’ll meet at the cafe by yours.” Without waiting for a reply, he ends the call - hangs up just like he’s been waiting to do for the past 3 minutes. 

  
  


He hasn’t seen his dad in over a year. He tries for as less contact as possible and it works for him. Really, it does. He doesn’t miss him, he doesn’t want an apology, he doesn’t want a relationship with him. He asks for rent money and that’s it. That’s all he needs. 

And it’s not like the guy ever tries to reach out to Lucas for shit. He never calls or texts to see how his son his doing, not on Christmas, not on his birthday. He didn’t contact Lucas’ mom when it was her birthday either, or when the old place she was at fucked up on her meds, mixed a bunch of unmixable shit and she had to go to the emergency room. Did he check on her? Did he make sure she was okay? No, and he probably didn’t even think about it. 18 years of marriage and a kid with someone and you’d think they’d care more than that but apparently not. 

So no, Lucas doesn’t want anything to do with his father, and if he didn’t absolutely need the rent money then he wouldn’t even bother with that either. Unfortunately, he has to. And unfortunately, he also has to meet with the fucking asshole because he’s supposedly “concerned.” Lucas doesn’t believe it. 

He turns the corner to the cafe and can see his dad through the window, already seated at a table with two mugs in front of him. Lucas’ mouth goes dry, he tastes nothing but sourness and bitterness and he has half a mind to turn around and leave, but he doesn’t. From the looks of it, his dad seems the exact same as he did when he left, except he’s got a beard and his hair is a couple inches longer but other than that he looks the same. Not good, not bad. Not that Lucas cares either way. He opens the door to the shop and steps inside, the smell of coffee filling his nostrils, relaxing him just a bit.

When the man sets eyes on his son he looks a bit taken aback - stunned, like he isn’t sure what to do and he, Lord help him, goes in for a hug as soon as they get close enough, to which Lucas responded by taking a tart step back and keeping his hands in his pocket, face neutral. 

“It’s good to see you, son,” 

Instead of responding verbally, Lucas squints his eyes, glares, and pulls out his chair to sit. As he takes in the mugs in front of him he registers the fact that the one on his side of the table is his, obviously, and his blood starts boiling as he thinks about the fact that his father ordered for him, like he knows him. 

What really pisses him off though, Lucas thinks, is that it’s exactly what he would have ordered for himself. Peppermint hot chocolate with whipped cream. He eyes the drink, considers taking a sip but ends up pushing it away because  _ fuck his dad.  _ Lucas isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he got something right today. 

“So?” He asks, hands in his lap under the table and twiddling his thumbs. His leg shakes nervously. 

“Well first of all I wanted to start with--” 

“No,” Lucas interrupts for the umpteenth time today. “Why am I here?” 

His father sighs, sipping at his own mug before setting it down and he clasps his hands together, resting them on the hard surface. “Right,” he accedes, “Straight to the point,” He looks at Lucas for some moments, studying him, contemplating what to say, wondering how the fuck he’s going to do this, Lucas is sure. “I’ve been in talks with your mother’s social worker and we agreed it would be best if I signed back on as her legal guardian.” 

Excuse-- what? Did he hear that correctly? “Why?” 

“Well she’s just not doing too well, Lucas, and--” 

“How the fuck would you know?” 

The man purses his lips at the fowl language but otherwise doesn’t address it. “I’ve been keeping up,” 

“ _ Keeping up _ ?” Lucas spits, “Keeping up by, what? Staying away from her? Ignoring her calls? You’ve been  _ avoiding her  _ because you’re a coward and you’d rather fucking spy on her than to actually ask her how she’s doing herself.” 

“That’s enough.” 

“ _ Fuck _ you. You’re not doing this, I won’t let you.” 

“You don’t have a say in the matter, Lucas. I came to you out of respect, not for your permission.” 

He doesn’t even know what he’s supposed to say to that. He has absolutely no idea how to respond. So he takes a page straight out of Papa Lallemant’s book and he leaves. Stomps straight out of the shop and doesn’t look back. 

Fuck his dad. 

\--

\--

As he lays in bed later that night it doesn’t escape his attention how much of a hypocrite he is. He spits at his father, looks down at him for being so disrespectful to his mother when the truth is, he’s no better. He hates visiting her, he’s short and cold with her when he’s there. He’s planning his leave from the minute he walks in. 

Neither one of them deserve her. Neither one of them have the right to be fighting over her. But it doesn’t mean that he’s going to continue to let his father treat her like shit and walk all over her feelings. She deserves better than that. She deserves to have an actual husband who loves her, someone who cares about her and genuinely worries about her health, both physical and mental. She deserves a son who  _ wants  _ to visit her, and misses her when he’s not with her, and plans his next visit before he’s even left the one that he’s at. 

\--

\--

Friday is both death and release. 

He doesn’t want to wake up, he doesn’t want to get out of bed, and he doesn’t want to go to school. But on the bright side, it’s  _ Friday  _ and he has two whole days after this to do whatever the fuck he wants. 

And also on the bright side maybe he also gets to see a certain person at school today and that might give him a little bit of motivation as well. 

Maybe. We’ll see. 

On his way to the shower he runs into Manon right as he’s coming out of his room. She smiles warmly at him and brings him straight home from his funk with just that. 

When he got home last night and after he just laid in his bed in a pile of self loath and disgust, as soon as she arrived back from wherever she had been, it was like she could just  _ smell  _ all the revulsion and hatred just  _ wafting out of his room  _ and contaminating the entire apartment. It took all of 2 minutes for her to knock on his door, ask him a single time if he was okay, and then he just broke. Completely shattered right there in front of her. 

Looking back at it the next morning, is he embarrassed of how he acted? For sure. Does he regret letting himself get super fucking emotionally wrecked and turning into a fool? Of course! How could he not? But did it help him immensely and was a huge relief with nothing but love and comfort? Abso-fucking-lutely. 

It wasn’t the first time Lucas Lallemant turned into a 3 year old toddler and cried into Manon’s arms, holding onto her like she was his fucking liferaft, and it certainly won’t be the last. 

  
  


They walk into school together, side by side and they’ve both got armfulls of baked goods that they’re taking to the common room for the girls. 

“How early were you up making these?” He asks her as they trek down the hall.

“Not too early,” She admits, but somehow Lucas doesn’t believe her. She looks at him bashfully, “I was up anyways so what else was I going to do?” She shrugs at him in an  _ oh well  _ manner before opening the door to the foyer. The girls greet them like they normally do, all excited but kind of distracted until they see that the two newcomers have brought treats and then they’ve given their full attention. 

Everyone sits down, pigs out, munches and munches and munches until over half of the sweets are gone and Lucas has never been so full in his life. 

“Are any of you going to the musical tonight?” Daphne asks, leaning back in her chair and straightening out her skirt as she crosses her legs. 

They all ponder it for a moment and Alexia exclaims that yes, she is, because a girl she really likes is performing and she doesn’t want to miss it. Imane volunteers to go with her, then Manon and Emma both decide that if Imane and Alexia are going, they might as well, and then that of course means that Daphne’s going too and pretty soon they’re talking Lucas into going. He doesn’t know how it happened, but he didn’t really put up much of a fight if we’re being super honest. 

He loves the guys a lot. They’re his best friends, his bros, they’re  _ Le Gang.  _ But it’s  _ so different  _ when he’s hanging out with the girls. He finds a certain solace with them, this weird air about them that’s just so  _ freeing.  _ And like, how he feels when he’s with Manon but x5. He can’t explain it, but there’s just nothing like it. 

He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he’s quick to fetch it. 

**_srodulv_ **

_ I’ve always liked you in the blue jacket  _

_ It brings out the color in your eyes, you know _

_ Not that they need it _

Lucas instinctively looks up, eyes searching for the older boy outside but coming up short. 

**_lucallemant_ **

_ Oh, so you’re stalking me now, hm? _

**_srodulv_ **

_ Now _

_ And for a while  _

_ ;) _

Lucas snorts in his seat and the girl’s look over at him with interested gazes. “Uh, sorry, Yann...meme,” he stammers, cursing himself in his head.  _ Whatever,  _ he thinks, chuckling to himself,  _ few word do trick, right?  _

**_lucallemant_ **

_ And where are you now? _

**_srodulv_ **

_ Guess you’ll have to find me _

Shaking his head and smiling, he stands up, gathers his things and explains to his friends, “I have to go talk to one of my teachers before class starts,” none of them looked very convinced, like they all know he’s lying but they don’t say anything, just tell him bye and let him go. When Lucas steps into the hallway he looks both directions before heading right, leading him back outside and it’s there that he finds Elliot with his back against the concrete wall, right by the windows in the common room. Obviously.

He looks up when Lucas walks out and his mouth morphs into the biggest smile the world has ever seen. So beautiful, so stunning. 

They don’t say anything to each other at first and it’s becoming a habit of theirs - just standing and staring into each other’s eyes and it’s like that’s all they need, to just be near each other, to just see each other. Nothing else as long as there’s this. 

“Missed you,” Elliot admits out of nowhere, all blatant and open and so sweet and just completely confident in his words and Lucas wishes he had the same luxury. 

He blushes, breathes a shy laugh, “Shut up,” he pushes Elliot’s arm and tries to act like the words didn’t start a whole fucking swoon of butterflies inside his stomach and send electricity coursing through his veins. “You saw me yesterday,” 

“Barely!” Elliot complains as he shifts an inch closer. “Passing by you in the hallways and having staring contests during lunch doesn't count,” he smirks, “However much I enjoy them,” And right as Lucas’ face is cooling down from the whole  _ “miss you”  _ thing, Elliot just has to go and fucking wink at him again like the asshole that he is. Will there ever come a time where the simple act doesn’t just absolutely destroy him? 

Maybe. Lucas thinks that what really gets him is that him and Elliot aren’t dating. They’re not together, they’re not involved, and yet, it  _ feels  _ like they are. They talk all day; Elliot compliments him at least 10 times per 24 hours; when they hang out they’re not terribly affectionate, but sometimes there are the lingering touches and the shamelessly ogling each other. And then Elliot says shit like, “I miss you,” and it’s not weird, not abnormal, doesn’t feel like the most absurd thing ever, because Lucas  _ gets it.  _ He misses Elliot, too. 

It’s like, this is just how they are with each other. This is their  _ friendship  _ (as much as Lucas dreads having to use that particular word, it’s better than nothing.) But there’s a difference between the affection between him and Elliot, and the affection between him and his friends. It doesn’t feel like this when his hand accidentally brushes against Basile’s, or when Arthur ruffles his hair, or when he bumps shoulders with Yann (except here was that one small portion of time that Lucas isn’t too crazy about thinking of.) It doesn’t feel like this when they haven't seen or heard from him in a day or so and they bug him with  _ “Where were you? We missed our Lulu,”  _ There’s an entirely different feeling when it’s Elliot’s touches and Elliot’s words and Elliot’s  _ everything.  _

His friends are 100% undisputedly platonic, and he thinks it’s pretty safe to say that this thing with Elliot, whatever it is, is not.  

The bell rings and kids all start crowding around the doors in a rush to get to class. 

Elliot’s eyes roam Lucas’ pink flushed face and as he starts backing away he utters a quite, yet vibrant, “You are so fucking beautiful, Lucas,” 

And yeah, definitely not platonic. 

\--

\--

The show was good, a whole lot better than Lucas thought it was going to be. And oh, much to his fucking surprise (and even more, amusement)  _ Arthur was in it! _ And never said anything to the guys! Though now that Lucas thinks about it, he has been sort of weird these last couple of weeks, always being “busy” with “homework” and “hanging with his mom.” 

After the initial shock of seeing his friend up there, and then laughing at the absurdity of it, Lucas eventually got his shit together enough to actually pay attention and  _ fuck,  _ he had no idea how talented Arthur truly was. And oddly enough, this whole theater scene really suited him. 

Why wouldn’t he have said anything to the gang though? 

When the show ended Lucas and the girls went backstage to congratulate some of the other people they knew that were in it. The blanching look on Arthur’s face when he saw them all was by far the best “deer in the headlight” look Lucas has ever seen.  _ By far.  _

All the girls attacked him, oohing and awing over how great he was, just plumb cooing over him, talking about how they couldn’t get enough of it and how they can’t believe they didn’t know he was a thespian, which he was quick to crush that with a firm, “Oh, I’m not, and please don't,” 

When Lucas finally got enough space to push through the throng of females, he roughed his friends’ hair, hugged him, patted him on the back. “I’m proud of you, man,” he expressed, and Arthur smiled big and toothy. 

“You don’t think it’s lame?” 

“Lame?” Lucas exasperated, “Fuck no, dude. You’re the coolest out of all of us,” and he meant it, truly. 

Arthur thanks him, pulls him into another hug and almost just about squeezes all the air out of him. 

Interesting thing though, because as Lucas is standing here with his friends, everyone talking amongst themselves, all laughing and each of them are so incredibly involved in the conversation, as Lucas should be too, except, he isn’t. 

Why? 

Because way on the other side of the stage (not really that far, only about 10 feet) is a person dressed in all black, tall, lean body, big hair, and he’s wrapping up what looks to be some extension cords. And before Lucas even has a chance to doubt the person’s identity, Idriss comes and puts a hand on the guys back, confirming Lucas’ assumption.  

_ Huh,  _ he thinks, what is Elliot doing here? 

He doesn’t go over there just yet, instead staying with the group and just admiring from afar, as he so much loves to do. Idriss says something to the boy, causing him to throw his back in laughter and Lucas can hear it from where he is, even over everyone’s chatter. It’s such a distinct sound, so striking and-- great. Just great. It was a great laugh. 

He’s able to make a clean slip away as the rest of the group are all so engaged in each other, and he decides,  _ what the hell  _ as he ambles on over to the two third years. Idriss looks right at him, a knowing smile on his face as he nudges his friend and Elliot turns around too, irises lighting up immediately. 

“Hey,” he greets brightly, turning around to face the shorter one as Idriss disappears somewhere, “What are you doing here?” 

Lucas grins, cocks his shoulders, “The girls made me,” a little white lie, it’s not really important. “And you?” His eyes trail down Elliot’s body and he unintentionally (maybe not) checks him out before sliding his gaze back to meet the boys eyes and way-too-smug smirk. 

“Oh, Idriss and I got caught skipping the other day and this is how they’re making us pay for it,” 

“Ah,” Lucas nods,  _ still  _ fucking beaming because when he’s around Elliot he just can’t seem to stop.

The older boy bites his lip, having the same issue, “I’m almost done, if you want to get out of here,”  And Lucas only acts like he has to think about it. Really, there’s no question. “Okay, sure,” 

“Cool,” Elliot responds, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet. 

Surprise, neither of them are moving. Too entranced in the other to do anything else. Too elated to be in the presence of one another that neither of them are really too keen on changing that right now, no matter how long it might be until they’re together again. 

“Cool,”

Fuck, these damn incessant smiles. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, regarding Lucas' mother, I'm not sure if it works the same in Paris or not so i apologize if it's at all inaccurate, I'm just going off of the shit we've been through with my uncle who's in a similar position, and even my knowledge of that might be inaccurate for the states, so i don't know, haha. bare with me. 
> 
> kudos and comments feed me! Please leave them!! Thank you all so much for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short but I hope it'll suffice!

Elliot lived in a one bedroom apartment by himself about in the middle of the city. It was decent sized, just small enough for one person to stay there, but big enough for two. Not that Lucas was thinking about that at all because he hadn’t. Not once. It never happened. 

They decided once they left the school that they would go back there and hang out. Have a chill night in and all. Just the two of them. In Elliot’s apartment. By themselves. No one else. 

To say Lucas was nervous would be a  _ gross  _ understatement. 

The second Elliot suggested it Lucas’ heart started beating faster than a fucking race horse. It didn’t slow down during the bus ride over, it didn’t slow down as they traveled from the stop to his building, and it didn’t slow down as they climbed the stairs leading to. 

However, the minute that the older boy unlocked his door, opened it, and Lucas followed him in, his mind was instantly swiped of everything that wasn’t  _ Elliot Elliot Elliot.  _ The entire apartment just screamed his name. From the drawings pinned to the walls, to the mismatched furniture positioned around the living room. There was a record player set on his bookshelf in the corner that Lucas assumed was where he listened to his  _ dubstep.  _ He smirked to himself. It’s still hilarious to him. 

“Do you want a beer?” Elliot’s voice rang from where he stood by the kitchen and if Lucas didn’t know any better, he’d say the older boy looked a bit nervous as well. 

“Sure,” He turned back to look at all of the drawings, studying each and every one of them and maybe it’s just Lucas, but there sure do seem to be a large amount of raccoons up there. 

Elliot taps his shoulder with a bottle of beer and Lucas accepts it with a smile, asking, “You like raccoons, huh?” 

“It’s my spirit animal,” Elliot confesses after taking a sip of his drink. 

“Your spirit animal?” 

“Yeah? They’re so cool,” there’s a certain giddiness in his voice when he talks about the animal, Lucas has noticed, and especially when he brings up a peace sign and wipes it across his eye, arguing, “And they have masks,” with his trademark eyebrow raise that’s quickly becoming Lucas’ favorite thing on the entire earth. 

“So, what would you say my spirit animal is?” Lucas is expecting him to think about it, toss the different possibilities back and forth inside his head but instead he answers right away, his voice unwavering and his eyes giving away the fact that he’s made his decision - there’s no changing his mind. 

“A hedgehog.” 

“A hedgehog?” Lucas asks, disbelieving. Elliot nods, a sly grin plastered on his lips. 

“They’re small, you’re small, they’re spikey...you’re spikey,” he chuckles, his hand tangling in Lucas’ hair and tousling it, giving the smaller boy a disheveled look.  

He wasn’t expecting to be compared to a hedgehog, and he almost accepted it, no more questions asked. But then he remembered something from the beginning of the week, and,  “Wait,” he narrows his eyes, “Are you saying that I snort like a pig?” 

The sound of Elliot’s laugh fills the room, a blessing to Lucas’ ears that he’ll never tire of hearing, and the hand that’s stayed rested in the latter’s hair falls down to his cheek, caressing  his jaw. Elliot does this thing where he looks at Lucas like he’s the only person in the universe, like he  _ is  _ the universe, and Lucas never knows what to do or how to feel about it. He usually says something to break the moment, or looks somewhere else so that he doesn’t have to actually  _ see  _ it, but not today. Not right now. He only smiles gummy and kind, and closes his eyes as Elliot’s thumb brushes left to right under his eyes. 

It’s minutes later when he realizes Elliot never actually answered his question, though it’s no longer really important, he supposes...Even if does still want to know.

They end up on the couch to watch a movie, a bowl of popcorn between them. Lucas isn’t sure what movie Elliot put in, but he doesn’t care, he doubts he’s going to pay attention anyways. It’s not very easy to focus on much when you’re sitting this close to a modern day Adonis. His brain turns to mush when he even  _ thinks  _ about Elliot. 

And this? This is.. _ugh._

  
  


As he expected, he has no idea what he’s watching. There are a few things that register to him, a few people he can recall the names of, but if someone were to ask him what the actually plot was, he couldn’t say. He really couldn’t. 

And he thought that he was doing good there for a little bit, finally getting his shit lined up and was able to focus for at least a few minutes, and then the literal biggest cliche in all of cliches happened and he reached into the popcorn bowl at the same time that Elliot did and their fucking fingers touched and it was magic and his entire body vibrated from within. It was a whole thing and Lucas has been trying to contain himself ever since.

He doesn’t understand why it’s such a big deal. He’s spent a fair amount of time with the boy now; he’s blushed as much as he could because Elliot says things to him specifically for that reason; they’ve “accidentally” bumped into his each others body parts  _ a couple of times _ ; and Elliot has just straight reached out and  _ pet him  _ more times than Lucas can count.  So why does Lucas suddenly get the mentality of a 6th grader who’s holding hands with their crush for the first time just because his fingers touched Elliot’s when they both reached for popcorn? It doesn’t make sense and soon he just decides that he’ll never not be a giddy mess when it comes to any sort of contact with Elliot. 

Eventually they run out of popcorn and there’s just an empty bowl sitting between them, which Elliot is quick to move, leaning forward and over Lucas a bit to set it on the coffee table. He asks, “Do you want another beer?” 

“Um, maybe just some water?” 

And so he gets up, and Lucas watches him go, and he’s in the kitchen for maybe 20 seconds before he’s coming back with two glasses of aqua, setting them on the coffee table as well before plopping back down, and Lucas can’t help but to notice that he’s a few inches closer than he was before. And this time there’s no bowl separating them. 

_ Is this a date?  _ Lucas thinks to himself, and it has to be, right? Because he established earlier today that there was nothing platonic going on between the two of them, that much is obvious. It feels like a date. And so did the midnight walk that they took under the bridge. And so did the period that they skipped at school. Like,  _ unofficial  _ dates. 

And fuck, now he really wants an official one. 

The movie ends and Lucas still doesn’t have the first clue in what it was about, but that’s okay anyways because Elliot seems to have enjoyed it, and as long as he’s happy, Lucas is happy. 

It’s still dark and the only other noise in the room is coming from the soft music playing during the ending credits. Elliot throws his arm over the back of the couch, right behind Lucas’ head and,  _ why the fuck couldn’t he have done that earlier?  _

“So,” the older boy starts, “What do you want to do now?” 

There’s a piano in the room that Lucas has been glancing at since he got here, and just thinking about it, his eyes shift to it once more, he simpers, stands up from his spot of warmth next to Elliot, and pads over to the bench. It’s been a little bit since he’s played - about the same time that they first left the church, so he hopes that he still remembers how to do it and doesn’t make a complete full of himself, though he thinks that if he turns out to suck then he can just play it off. 

He starts off leisurely, just sticking his toe in the water, just to see if he’s still got it and he remembers the notes correctly, and then it all comes back to him. So natural, so effortless. He remembers everything. 

_ Hallelujah,  _ he plays and is immediately hit with an overwhelming wave of nostalgia. His mom used to bring him up to the church when she wasn’t feeling well because it was her safe place. It’s where she felt her best. 

When his grandmother died Lucas doesn’t know how many hours he spent with his mother there. When she lost her job that’s where he found her. Anytime she would fight with his dad, this is where she came. He can recall multiple times throughout his childhood where his parents would get into an argument, yell at each other, say horrible things to the other, and he never knew what it was about but the older he got and the more grown he got, he began to notice more things, like his mom being sad, not acting herself, and the worse she got the more it upset his father, so the more they fought. And when it was over she would take Lucas, load him up into the car and drive him to the church, no matter what day it was. It used to be her that would play for him, sing to him when he was just little, and as he got older she taught him to play it himself and the tradition changed to her singing while he played for  _ her. _ Always  _ Hallelujah  _ because it was her favorite. 

But then things started really falling apart and the church stopped being an option and Lucas hasn’t been back since. Nor has he played.

He realizes belatedly that it probably wasn’t the best idea to play  _ this  _ song out of all of the ones that he knows, but it really just happened. He doesn’t know why he chose this one, he didn’t even think about it. His fingers just started pressing keys and this is what came out of it. 

He guesses it’s because of everything that’s going on, everything that’s happening. His mom is in the back of his mind at all times, whether subconsciously or totally aware of it, she’s there. Sometimes it’s just easier for him to ignore it. 

He doesn’t stop though, just powers through it no matter how much it hurts him until the song is over, and then he chances a tentative glance back and sees Elliot on the edge of the couch, watching him, admiring him, in awe of what he just saw - Lucas is sure that’s what it is. There’s no way that one could misinterpret  _ that.  _

“Was it..okay?” he inquires anyways because maybe he just needs the verbal praise, just to hear the words come out of his mouth. 

“Lucas,” Elliot’s voice is barely there, just a mere whisper and he shakes his head, “It was amazing.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,”

  
  


Before he knows it it’s 2 am. Somewhere around 24h he texted Mika to tell them he’d probably be coming home late again, Mika texted back that he “better be safe” to which Lucas replied,  _ Yes, mother.  _

The two boys are currently lying in the floor next to each other, their legs propped up on the couch and it’s like they’re kind of hanging upside down but not really. 

They haven’t smoked anything, and they both had their last beer a couple hours ago, yet, Lucas still feels like he’s floating. He still feels this  _ buzz,  _ like his body isn’t really on the ground and his entire being is pulsing, thrumming. 

Elliot’s taken his hand, Lucas isn’t sure when exactly it happened, but one minute it’s lying between them, dangerously close to the other boys hand, and the next it’s entangled with Elliot’s, resting on Elliot’s stomach as he traces his fingers from his other hand on it. It feels good, it’s relaxing and soothing but at the same time it’s not. It makes Lucas ardent and breathless; anxious but in a good way. 

“Do you believe in parallel universes?” After several moments of silence, just sprawled out in the dark and not saying a word to each other. 

“Mmm, what do you mean?” 

“I mean,” he pauses as he thinks about his words and tries to make it sound like it isn’t a totally absurd idea, “It’s nice to think that there are other versions of us in different universes, living different lives, making different decisions but still having the same choices, you know?” He looks over to Elliot, trying to decipher what he might be thinking based on his facial expressions, but all Lucas finds is that the other boy is peering at him, listening intently, still holdding his hand. “It helps when I have a choice to make because I know that whatever I ended up choosing, another version of me chose another option and got a different outcome. And that way, between all of us, we’ve done everything that we could.” 

“So..does that mean that when you turned me down the first time that I asked you out, another Lucas actually said yes?” 

Lucas turns his head confused, “I..guess?” 

“Mmm,” Elliot nods once, bites his lip. “Guess that Elliot’s pretty lucky then, huh?” 

Lucas laughs and nudges him playfully, mutters, “Shut up,” and Elliot giggles. 

“No, I’m kidding,” he becomes more serious as he admits, “I wouldn’t change anything about this,” He turns his body as much as he can in the position that they’re in, and their arms fall between them.

“No?” Lucas turns the same way. 

“No,” the other boy shakes his head, “No, I like us,” 

Lucas’ gaze shifts down to Elliot’s lips, and then back up to his eyes. He leans in. “Really?” 

“Really,” Elliot purrs, inching closer, and closer, and closer, and stops. 

_ Okay.  _ _ Fuck it.  _

Lucas closes the gap, presses his lips against Elliot’s unbelievably soft ones and he just-- kisses. _They’re kissing._ Lucas is kissing Elliot, Elliot is kissing Lucas. It’s fucking phenomenal. The world didn’t stop like he expected it to, time didn’t freeze, outside noises didn’t just suddenly go quiet. But it’s still every bit as beautiful as Lucas imagined it being, and  _ even better. _ It’s breathtaking (literally), it makes his heart skip, it gives him goosebumps. 

And when Elliot brings a hand to the nape of Lucas’ neck, slides his fingers up into his hair, he feels like he could pass out because it feels so great. He’s never experienced anything like this. 

He pulls back, opens his eyes and Elliot takes a minute but he does the same. 

“About time,” he breathes, and Lucas laughs. 

Yes, it’s about time. 

\--

\--

When Lucas wakes up it’s around 8 am and he doesn’t remember falling asleep. He remembers moving to Elliot’s bed, he remembers kissing until his lips were sore, he remembers their bodies becoming one whole mess of limbs because they simply couldn’t get enough of each other. They tugged and pulled and grabbed and just couldn’t stop. 

They had talked a little bit, joked with each other, kissed some more, and that’s it. His  _ best  _ night. 

He rolls over and the bed is empty. He glances around the room but it’s not much and it’s obvious he’s alone in there, so he stands up, finds his jeans on the floor and steps into them before he makes his way into the hallway. He smells coffee, hears music playing on low, and when he makes the corner into the living room he finds Elliot criss cross on the couch with a pad and pencil, drawing. He looks up when he sees Lucas enter the room and beams at him, bright as the early morning sun, but says nothing as Lucas joins him on the sofa. 

“Hi,” Lucas greets, his voice small and sleep roused. “Have you been up long?” 

Elliot shakes his head, not looking up from his drawing, and Lucas glances down at it, noticing it for the first time and he chuckles. There’s a hedgehog tucked under some covers, sleeping peacefully in a bed and it’s such a simple concept but it’s so detailed and thought out and beautifully sketched. “No,” Elliot says, “An hour or so,” 

So Elliot’s an early riser. Noted. 

“I’m afraid I don’t have much for breakfast but I can probably whip something up if you want,” 

Lucas smiles but wags his head, “No, it’s okay, I should probably get going anyways,” 

It’s not that he wants to, but he also doesn’t want to overstay his welcome and chance things being weird between them. 

Though it makes him feel a little better when Elliot looks like he wants to protest and say no, but instead nods and goes with, “Alright,” 

It doesn’t take long for him to get his things together because he doesn’t have much but Elliot walks him to the door when he’s ready and they stand awkwardly in the way, neither of them knowing what to say. 

“Um..okay,” Maybe it’s just awkward for Lucas because he’s generally an awkward person anyways and when he’s in situations where he doesn’t know what to do then he over thinks it and fears it being awkward then  _ makes it  _ awkward in a failed attempt to keep it from being awkward and it’s just a whole thing. 

But maybe it’s not awkward. Maybe it’s just him. 

“Text me when you get home, okay?” Elliot asks, bringing a hand up under Lucas’ chin and the other boy nods. Lucas finds comfort in the fact that Elliot is one of  _ those.  _

_ Text me when you get home.  _

It’s endearing. It’s winsome. 

“Okay,” he promises, and his eyes fall closed when Elliot places one sweet, chaste kiss to his lips before he turns to leave. Just as he's outside and about to step onto the stairs, he feels a pull on his arm and before he knows it he's pressed to Elliot's body, chest to chest, there are arms wrapped around his waist. It startles him, how fast it all happened, but he's not even close to caring about that because there are lips on his and a tongue sliding against the seam of his mouth asking for entrance. He opens up, lets Elliot in. Lets him venture about, lick the roof of his mouth, the bottom of his gums. 

It feels like it lasts for minutes, hours, but in reality he knows it was only a few seconds. And Elliot pulls back with a smack, leaves a few more pecks before he lets Lucas go, and then he laughs bashfully and says, "Sorry," 

And Lucas of course tells him there's nothing to apologize for. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think in the comments :)


	7. Chapter 7

“Is that Chloe girl still trying to talk to you?” Arthur asks as they’re standing around the courtyard after school on Monday.

“Oh, dude,” Basile hits Lucas’ arm excitedly, “You should tell her I’m available,”

“Like you’re the next best thing,” Yann teases, and Basile squints his eyes in mock offense, throwing a hand over his heart.

Lucas smiles at his friends banter. “No, or, I haven’t seen her at school but she did follow me on instagram.”

“Maybe she found out you were gay,”

Basile scoffs, “I don’t see how, it’s not like you have a boyfriend to flaunt,”

Lucas hears Arthur snort and he glares at his friends, “Piss off,”

It’s the only retort he can come up with because they’re right. Or maybe they’re not, he doesn’t know. He has no idea what’s going on with Elliot. They haven’t really stopped texting each other since he left on Saturday morning but as far as what they are, it hasn’t been addressed. It’s just never come up. And maybe Lucas hasn’t asked yet because he’s scared of the answer he might get. Maybe he was a one time thing for Elliot. Maybe Elliot changed his mind. Maybe it was all about the chase. Maybe he just decided that Lucas wasn’t what he wanted anymore. Or maybe he found someone more appealing, someone who wasn’t so shy, someone who was funnier or maybe not as awkward.

“I don’t know,” Yann comments thoughtfully but his eyes shine with mirth, “Alexia tells me he ran off somewhere after the musical on Friday and never came back,” Lucas supposes he’s rather lucky that Arthur doesn’t want to tell the rest of them about the musical because otherwise he could confirm Lucas’ sudden absence, and fortunately, Lucas is free to deny, deny, deny. All. He. Wants.

He doesn’t, but he does make up an excuse. “I had to go help my friend out with something, it was an emergency,” it’s shitty and not well thought of and he  _ knows  _ that Yann is too smart to believe him but it’s worth a try, right?

Apparently not. “Oh, yeah? The same person that sent you that supposed  _ “meme”  _ last weekend, too? Or maybe you just got lost on the way to the bathroom again, hm? More confusing hallways?” Yann taunts playfully, challenging Lucas to argue. He knows he’s right.

“I-- did see a meme,” he mutters defeatedly, barely above a whisper. He sighs internally. There was no meme.

“Yeah okay,” Yann jokes, and Lucas gives up for right now because there’s no use.

However, he’ll continue to deny that there’s any person that he’s interested in until he knows for certain that there’s anything to tell in the first place.

“Whatever,” Lucas huffs, “Let’s go,” they’re heading to Basile’s for video games and Lucas is looking forward to getting revenge on all of these assholes by kicking their asses in some  _ Bioshock. _

They all start heading towards the gate when Lucas sees Idriss walking in their direction, passing them. “Sup, Lucas,” he saluts, and Lucas, actually dying on the inside but playing it super cool on the outside, gives him a head nod in return as all of the other boys stop to gawk at the interaction.

It’s a surprise to him as much as it is them but he can’t let anyone know that. The guy is Elliot’s best friend, Lucas can’t look like a dweeb! He’s gotta be  _ crisp _ !

“What?” He asks his friends, chill and nonchalant, like what just happened was totally normal and an everyday thing.

“I thought you said you didn’t know him?”

“Uh..I don’t, not really,”

“Hmm,” Arthur hums in faux contemplation, because he loves to stir the pot just for his own shits and giggles. “You know, I heard Idriss was also at the play on Friday. Maybe he’s our mystery man,”

“Oh, you  _ heard?? _ ” Lucas retorts, and Arthur does his best attempt at a scowl but it fails.

Yann puts a hand to his chin and ponders, “No, I don’t really see them together. What about that one third year? With the...” he motions above his head.

“Oh  _ that  _ one?” Arthur inquires with way too much enthusiasm and Lucas wonders how the fuck they know who they’re talking about. “Yeah, they’d look good together. We should definitely try to set them up,”

Lucas looks back and forth between the two boys, unimpressed, and then mumbles, “You guys are dumb,” before turning around and continuing his tread to the gate.

\--

\--

**_srodulv_ **

_ Meet me in the bathroom by the math hall. _

In all honesty Lucas is surprised that Elliot’s at school on a Wednesday. He’s sitting in science, taking notes on whatever he and Imane are currently working on, when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He looks over at his partner after reading it, considering her and what mood she’s in, seeing when would best be fit to take a break to the restroom, and then eventually decides that there’s no time like the present. “Hey, uh-- mind if I go to the bathroom right quick?” He tries for casualness, like it isn’t weird that he’s asking permission from his partner rather than his teacher, but Imane is real  _ no bullshit  _ when it comes to her schoolwork.

Still, she looks at him like he has 2 heads, “I don’t-- care?” Her voice goes a little higher at the end, as if she has no idea why Lucas thinks she would give 2 shits what he does. He doesn’t question it, instead breathing out a, “Cool,” before stumbling off his stool and slipping out.

The halls are empty and quiet, and Lucas enjoys stalking past classes to catch glimpses of what sort of chaos is happening inside. The math teachers are always the meanest, and he chuckles as he hears one of them chewing out one of their students.

When he opens the door to the bathroom he doesn’t see anyone, so he walks past each stall until he sees Elliot cooly leaning against one of the walls inside the tiny space with his phone in his hand occupying his attention. He looks up when Lucas approaches, pockets the device and steps out, closer and closer, backing Lucas into the wall behind him until the boy is trapped, nowhere to go. “Hey,” Elliot whispers, his hands planting themselves on either side of Lucas’ hips.

Lucas bites his lip and Elliot tracks the movement with his deep blue eyes, “Hi,” The taller boy brushes their noses together in a sweet eskimo kiss until Lucas becomes too impatient with need and want, tilts his head just a smidge of an inch to connect their lips.

Elliot tastes like mint and cigarette smoke, and Lucas has never been so hungry for something in his life. He slips his tongue in past the rim of the guys mouth, basking in the warmth and wet. He feels a hand settle on his ass, squeezing and pulling him closer, and he accidentally lets a moan escape from his throat that Elliot swallows down.

They pull apart, both panting and out of breath, and Elliot smirks, “So you missed me, huh?”

“No,” Lucas whispers, burying his face in the other boys neck and breathing in. Elliot laughs and wraps an arm around him, hugging him tight. “Maybe,”

“Do you want to do something tonight?”

“ _ Please, _ ” Lucas replies before even thinking about it, and then blushing at how desperate it might have sounded.

There’s still a hand on his ass but the one on his back is skimming up and down in soft motions, gallons of affection oozing out with every flick of the wrist. “Cool,” and Lucas can hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll meet you after school?” He can only bring himself to nod, and he knows that their time together is coming to an end because there’s only so long he can hide in the bathroom without it looking suspicious, or like he was doing anything other than peeing. He doesn’t want to separate, he’s loving the position that he’s in too much right now, but he stubbornly leans away anyways. He puts his hands on both sides of Elliot’s cheeks, smushing his face together before kissing him once, twice, and a third for good measure.

“Okay,” he pets Elliot’s hair back as he studies every inch of his face in fear of forgetting it sometime in the next 2 or so hours. “Okay, I have to go,” he really does, but it’s hard to when Elliot is looking at him like  _ that.  _ Yet, somehow h e finds the strength to push against the wall, moving the other body and sliding out from between them. He gets to the bathroom door, stops, and runs back for  _ just a few  _ more pecks.

“Go,” Elliot pushes him away, smile as bright as the sun and laugh more beautiful than any sort of music could compare to, “I’ll text you,” he promises and Lucas nods, backing away and forcing himself out the door and back to class before he can change his mind.

\--

\--

Lucas is trying to rush everyone to leave before he meets up with Elliot because he doesn’t want them to see him. They all stand around for at least 15 minutes outside before they all go home, and today is no different, but Lucas is trying to speed it up. It’s not that he doesn’t want them to meet Elliot, but he just doesn’t really feel like hearing their questions and them expecting answers when he doesn’t really have any himself. Plus he doesn’t know how Elliot feels about all of that, if he wants to tell people, if he doesn’t see the point in it because he isn’t expecting this thing with Lucas to go very far.

And maybe whatever it is, Lucas just wants Elliot to himself for a little bit. Hold him hostage so no one else has any contact with him, so no one else gets to see him smile or hear him talk or laugh, so no one else gets to experience what it feels like to be under his gaze. Lucas knows it probably doesn’t make sense to anyone else, or they might think it’s a bit extreme but he doesn’t really care.

The boys are gathered around in a circle talking about trivial things, Lucas has no clue what because he’s not paying attention, he’s on look out for a long body and big hair and so far he’s in the clear but he still doesn’t want to chance it so he laughs maybe a little too loudly at something that probably wasn’t even funny, and says, “Okay guys, who’s ready to go?” with  _definitely_  too much enthusiasm.

No one answers him, Basile goes on about whatever he’s jabbering about, and then Lucas finally spots Elliot against the rock wall with Sofiane. His back is against it and his hands are in his pocket. He looks so carefree and beautiful, beaming at whatever his friend is telling him and Lucas wishes he were the one making him look like that right now.

He tries again with the guys, “That’s really funny Basile,” he nods, folding his lips together but not trying to come off as condescending or rude so he tries to smile and it most likely just makes it worse. “So, leaving?”

They all give him a weird look and Arthur shrugs, “Where’s the fire?”

“Well, eh-- there’s not one.. _ yet, _  but you never know, heh..”

“Are you okay?” Yann asks, eyeing his friend suspiciously.

“I’m great!” Lucas exclaims, putting a hand on either of the shoulders next to him. “But um, you know, school sucks and all so I’m just really ready to go…” Elliot’s watching him, doing that fucking smolder thing that he does where he just looks incredibly cool and intimidating and it makes Lucas want to crawl into a ball but also get down to his knees.

Arthur and Yann look at each other, sending messages through their eyes that Lucas isn’t worried about right now but probably will be later. “Alright..” Arthur accedes, squinting his eyes. “I guess we can go,”

“Cool!” Lucas starts walking, gently but as subtly as he can nudging them along without coming off as too pushy. When they’re almost to the gate he freezes, patting his pockets, “Shit, you know what, guys? I forgot something in my locker so I’m just going to head back and...get that..”His words start to slow when he realizes how stupid he must seem. No one says anything but they’re considering him like he’s inhuman and has wings, or 14 arms, or a third eye or something. “You guys go on without me,” he plasters on a tight smile to seem more convincing, knowing that it’s doing no good.

“Okay..” Yann says, and they stare at each other for a couple more seconds before the guys turn back around and go, and Lucas stands there, stayed in one spot as he watches them until they’re out of sight, and then he feels a hand on his shoulder and he turns around to see Elliot towering over him, nothing but light and happiness emanating from his figure.

“Everything okay?" He asks, hint of worry in his voice and the way his eyebrows are pulled together. Lucas nods reassuringly, giving him a toothy grin that’s much more compelling than the one he gave the boys.

“Ready?” It’s Elliot’s turn to bob his head and together they take off down the street, side by side and sharing the events of their days with the other, no destination in mind.

 

They end up in a coffee shop not far from Lucas’ flat. They’re sitting across from each other but Lucas is leaning on the table, listening intently to everything that Elliot is saying and he  _ knows  _ he looks like a lovesick puppy but he can’t bring himself to care. It just doesn’t matter. He’s happy. He feels nothing but sheer glee inside of him.

“And so I kinda just stared at him for at least 6 seconds before I had any sort of response because I thought there was no way that he was talking to me even though there was no one else standing on my side and he was literally looking right at me. Idriss eventually took pity on me and had to introduce me himself because I was so starstruck that I couldn’t even remember my own name. And then I just nodded dumbly with this huge, stupid smile on my face.” He chuckles as he recalls the story. He’s telling Lucas about how he had ran into one of his favorite local artists on the street one time and his entire brain stopped working and he made a complete full of himself.

Lucas laughs, loud and genuine, and it’s nice to hear that he’s not the only one who gets nervous in front of people he admires and ends up looking like an idiot.  “What did the guy do?”

“Oh, totally cool about it.” Elliot says, “He said that it was flattering because he didn’t really meet people that loved him so much that they just went brain dead right there in front of him.” He takes a sip of his drink and leans back in his seat. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Lucas asks, circling his finger around the rim of his mug.

“What’s your most embarrassing story?”

_ Most every interaction I’ve ever had with another human,  _ he wants to say, but decides on, “I”m not telling you, no way,”

“Why?”

“So you can hold it against me? No thanks,” he huffs, simpering. Elliot lets out an exasperated sigh, “Come on!” he whines, and Lucas only shrugs teasingly. His most embarrassing story would probably have to be when he was in 8th grade and he was sitting at the end of his lunch table by himself with the foreign exchange student. He can’t remember her name, what she looked like, or where she was from but all he knows is she didn’t speak a lick of french and had never talked to anyone else in the class. He doesn’t remember much of the story, just that he had taken a sip of his milk, coughed or  _ something,  _ he doesn’t know, but milk ended up coming out of his nose like a fucking waterfall and it was the first time he had ever seen the girl laugh. Or smile, even. But she did. And no one else saw, and it was really fucking embarrassing for him at the time but he’s always been glad she found some amusement in it and he was the first person there to get her to crack a grin.

No, he’s not telling that story to Elliot. No way in hell. The only one who’s heard that is Yann and it’s going to stay that way.

“I’ll get something out of you one day,” Elliot vows, and Lucas doesn’t want to admit how warm and fuzzy he feels on the inside because  _ one day  _ sorta kinda implies nowhere in the near future? Right? Yeah? Not anytime soon?

“We’ll see,” Lucas counters as his cheeks dimple slightly and he tries to hide his blush.

They’ve been sitting here for some time now, and Elliot finishes the last of his drink in one large gulp, setting it back down on the table with a not so quiet clink. Lucas pulls out his phone to text Manon and ask if she’s home, and it doesn’t take long for her to respond that no, she’s not, and probably won’t be for a couple hours.  _ Cool,  _ Lucas thinks, because Mika’s working late and that means he’s got the entire place to himself. He looks up, bites his lip nervously, “Do you want to go back to mine?” The only answer that he gets in reply is a bounce of the eyebrows and a wide, irresistibly gummy grin. But that’s all he needs.

 

“Well,” Lucas starts as they step inside, “This is my humble abode..” Elliot nods, glancing around the place curiously and taking everything in. “It’s um..sort of messy ‘cause of my roomates, so..” he trails off. He is also a contributor of the mess as well.

“And where’s your room?”

Lucas blushes, “Uh, this way,” he leads them down the hallway and prays that he didn’t leave anything too embarrassing laying out.

Turns out the place is safe (as far as he can tell), and he shuts the door behind him as Elliot explores, poking about and bobbing his head appreciatively as he sees certain things that Lucas has no idea what he’s looking at but he’s observing, alright. Lucas fidgets uneasily by the door and just  _ waits  _ for Elliot to see something that will forever mortify him, but it doesn’t appear to happen.

“Cute,” is all Elliot says as he plops down on the bed and looks at Lucas.

“Cute?”

“Cute,” Is that-- the room in general? Or?? Lucas is confused, but Elliot doesn’t seem to want to elaborate so he just takes it as it is. He walks over to the boy on the bed, who voluntarily opens his legs for Lucas to stand between and leans back on his hands. “It’s very  _ Lucas  _ in here,” he offers, and Lucas knows he can’t be confused by it because he said the same thing about Elliot’s room. Hell, his entire place.

“Is that a good thing?” He asks, his hands finding a home right under Elliot’s jaws.

“Yeah,” Elliot breaths, tilting his head back, “You’re cute,” he winks and Lucas out right fucking  _ giggles.  _ He leans down, presses his mouth to Elliot’s and it starts off slow and chaste, innocent but nice. And then it quickly turns into something more as Elliot runs his hands down Lucas’ sides, behind his legs, and then pulls until Lucas is in his lap, straddling him.

It’s always been a favorite position of Lucas’. It makes him feel good and cared for, but not like a baby, if that makes sense. It’s sexy and intimate but it’s not  _ only  _ sexy, it’s more than that - it just makes him feel close to the person he’s with. It makes him feel nice, safe, but not physically safe..more like, emotionally safe. Or, no, safe in the relationship. Like, they’re protected, together, by each other. He doesn’t know how to explain it without it sounding like gibberish.

Elliot’s fingers find the hem of his shirt and they run up his back underneath it. Lucas shuffles closer, as close as he can, and he falls forward as the body beneath him falls back. They’re not really grinding against each other, like they’re trying to get off or anything, it doesn’t really feel like what’s happening is just to get to sex. It feels more like they’re getting comfortable with each other, they’re getting to know each other, they’re just happy and feeling each other right now. And Lucas is good with that because he’s  _ not  _ ready for sex, not yet.

However, it doesn’t stop the moan from making it’s way out of his mouth, or the shiver of his skin when he hears Elliot do the same.

Elliot rolls them over so that he’s on top of Lucas, slotted between his legs, and Lucas wraps his arms around the boys’ neck, holding him tight.

Whatever this thing is with Elliot, it’s good, it makes him happy, and he can only hope that he’ll make the best while it lasts. And,  _ fuck,  _ does  he want it to last.

\--

\--

Elliot’s head is in his lap and he’s running his fingers through his thick locks, enjoying the softness of it.

“Lucas,” he says, barely audible, hesitant, and Lucas hums. “Why do you live in a flat with your friends?”

It’s not necessarily a topic he loves to discuss, but something about the boy laying on him tells him that it’s okay to share, he’s safe here, he won’t be judged.

Still, he tries for as vague as possible because he simply  _ doesn’t want to get into it right now.  _ “Ah, my parents split up a little over a year ago. Dad left us,” he knows it won’t suffice, knows that it doesn’t actually explain anything and will definitely leave more questions to be asked, yet he still shuts his eyes, dread washing over him as Elliot asks,

“And your mom?”

“She’s-- not fit enough to take care of me so Mika took me in until I turned 16, then I got emancipated but he decided he liked me too much to kick me out so he kept me here anyways,” he tries for light hearted so that the atmosphere doesn’t turn too dark with the subject.

“Ah,” Elliot answers, and Lucas can tell what he’s thinking, can tell he isn’t sure what to say, which Lucas is used to. People always want to say they’re sorry that this is his life, but he doesn’t want their apologies or their pity. He may not be living an ideal 16 year olds life, but it doesn’t  _ suck.  _ Sure, he wished his family wasn’t so fucking dysfunctional, and yes, he misses his mom being  _ his mom, _  but he’s grateful for his chosen family, his friends, and he wouldn’t trade them, or what he has with them, for the world.

Elliot wraps an arm around Lucas’ thigh and tucks his hand under it, hugging his leg. “And you?” the younger boy inquires. It’s several moments of silence, and Lucas thinks maybe he won’t answer, maybe it was too personal or he has bad experiences with family too and doesn’t want to share either, but then he answers in a hushed tone,

“My parents like to travel..and I don’t know, I don’t, so I stay here while they roam the world, and they visit every couple of months, or-- if there’s an emergency,” he gulps when he says the last words and Lucas thinks maybe he didn’t think it was as loud as it was, maybe Lucas wasn’t supposed to hear it, “but mostly it’s just me,”

“Doesn’t it get lonely?” He knows it does, because  _ he  _ gets lonely. Even with his friends.

Elliot shrugs, “I guess, sometimes, but I’m used to it by now. It’s more unusual when they are home,” Lucas continues to twist his fingers in his hair, pet the strands back and out of his face, leisurely and smoothly.

“Well now you have me,” he says softly, smiling, and Elliot turns around in his lap, sits up, locks eyes with him and kisses him, hard and long, smashing their faces together.

_ Thank you,  _ he conveys through the kiss.  
And Lucas responds,  _ of course. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha vendredi and freitag are actually going to murder me :')
> 
>  
> 
> also, i don't know what the equivalent to 8th grade is in france and the internet was just confusing me, so i apologize. feel free to educate me so i can correct anything!!
> 
> find me on tumblr @spn-skam :))


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for panic attack and mentions of panic attacks!!***

A little over 2 weeks had passed and Lucas was both extremely elated, and struggling just a little bit trying to not make it seem like he’s just been ditching his friends to hang out with Elliot. He still hasn’t told them, but that’s not for lack of want, more just like he hasn’t found the right time..and it may have something to do with the fact that he’s still unaware of what exactly his relationship with Elliot is. They’re with each other every moment they can get, they steal kisses in the bathrooms and secrete spots in the hallway when the opportunity presents itself. And Lucas’ heart aches every time he passes the boy in school and isn’t able to just run up to him and wrap his arms around him, right there in front of everybody. He wants to meet Elliot outside of his classes and greet him with a kiss on the lips. He wants to strudd down the halls hand in hand. He wants to be able to introduce Elliot to his friends and they all hang out together, introduce him to  _ Manon  _ and maybe get her approval that he’ll never admit he seeks but he does. 

But there’s still a very large part of him that wants to crawl into a hole with Elliot and never come back out so that he’s only the one who gets to experience Elliot and all that he is. 

He’s being dumb. Ridiculous. Irrational. 

He can’t not tell his friends. There’s literally no reason for them not to know. Not a one. 

He’s going to. 

..When he deems them worthy enough of Elliot’s beauty. So who knows how long that could be. 

\--

\--

When he walks into his mother’s room she’s sitting at her little table doing a crossword puzzle. He clears his throat, startling her a little but when she sees it’s him, a grin breaks out across her face and she motions him over to her. “See if you can help me with this, you’re good at science, right?” She asks him, fluttering her eyebrows in that way she does to get things.

He sighs, leaning down next to her, “Which one?” 

“4 down,” 

_ Non renewable forms of energy.  _ “Fossil fuels,” he says easily, standing up straight as she oohs. 

“My smart boy,” she reaches up to touch his cheek and he lets her, doesn’t move away, doesn’t turn his head. He lets her. But he doesn’t say anything, just gives her a tight smile. 

“What have you done today?” He asks as he sits down on her bed, rubbing his hands on his knees, wiping the sweat off his palms. 

“Oh,” she tilts her head up to the ceiling to think, “Let’s see, I went on a walk with May,” her social worker, “and then they had game time in the common room so I went down there for a little bit.”

Lucas nibbles at the inside of his lip, “It’s good that you’re getting out,” he smiles reassuringly at her, the best he can do. “How do you feel?” 

“Great,” she answers without a beat and he knows she’s lying, can see it in her eyes, through her facial expression, her body language. He can hear it in her voice. But he doesn’t argue. And he knows that maybe he should, just push her a little to open up. He should talk to her about these things so that he can get a glimpse inside her head, or so that she knows that he’s here if she needs him. 

But he only nods. “How did your therapy go this week?” At the mention of this, her expression darkens a bit but that’s the extent of the reaction.

“Good, really good. I think we’re finally getting somewhere,” 

Lucas squints his eyes, glancing at her warily. “Okay..” he settles. On the inside, in his head, he’s chastising himself for not questioning her and letting it go so easily. He  _ knows  _ she isn’t being truthful, he knows something is up, and yet, he doesn’t say anything. Why? He’s avoiding any conflict he can. He’s avoiding making her upset, avoiding getting into anything right now, avoiding triggering any sort of emotion other than what she’s currently showing him. 

Which might be okay if he were doing it for her, doing it because it’s not what she needs right now. But he’s not. He’s doing it because  _ he  _ doesn’t want to feel guilty.  _ He  _ doesn’t want to be trapped with her while she breaks down and he has no way out - no way to leave, and he’s just going to have to stand there as she cries to him and begs him to stay, clings to him, sobbing into his shirt as he holds her. 

No, he isn’t going through it again. He’s done it too many times before, too many times when he was little and didn’t even know what was really happening. He won’t do it today. 

“Will you go with me tomorrow?” She inquires softly, her voice so light it barely carries across the room to him. 

“I can’t, mom,” 

“Why?” 

“Because I just-- I _can’t_ , alright?” He doesn’t mean to snap at her, really, he doesn’t, and watching the way she flinches at the sharpness in his voice, he nearly breaks down himself. She used to flinch like that when Lucas’ dad would raise his voice at her, becoming too impatient and end up getting upset with her, like she had done something wrong. It always pissed Lucas off, seeing the way he treated her. 

“Fuck,” he whispers to himself, ashamed, and he stands up, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to--” he swallows, eyeing her, “I’m busy tomorrow, I can’t cancel.” 

“It’s okay,” she murmurs quietly, nothing but genuineness in her words, “I understand. Maybe next time?” 

He doesn’t say anything to that, only forces a smile as he ambles over to her. “I should get going,” he kisses her cheek, letting her wrap her arms around his neck. He breathes in and closes his eyes but doesn’t allow himself to enjoy her embrace, no matter how much he wants to. He doesn’t deserve it. 

\--

\--

The plans he has on Sunday are with Elliot, go figure, and he spends  _ at least  _ 30 minutes in front of his mirror trying to pick out something to wear. They’re not even going anywhere, Lucas is meeting him at his apartment and they’re just going to hang out there, but still, he get anxious as he dresses himself because he only wants to look nice for him. Even though Elliot literally always wears the same exact outfit. It's okay.

He’s fumbling with his hair, trying to get it to do _something_ and not look so fucking poofy, when Mika knocks on the door and pokes his head in. “Hey, kitten, can you-- oh, are you going somewhere?” 

“Uh..” Lucas stutters, “I’m meeting the guys somewhere,” 

“Oh,” Mika looks him up and down, smirking, and Lucas should have known it wasn’t going to be that easy. “You look pretty nice to be ‘hanging out with the guys’,” He bops his head from side to side, voice going funny and his eyes bug. 

“Yeah, well, maybe I just feel like dressing up today,” Does he look dumb? Should he change? He should change, shouldn’t he? Maybe he looks  _ too  _ dressed up, like he’s trying too hard. 

“Okay, okay,” his flatmate concedes. Or not, Lucas doesn’t know. “Anyways, um, I was wondering if you could help me pick a photo,” he comes further into the room, handing his phone to Lucas, who looks through the photos, asking what they’re for. Some of them are a bit, uhh,  _immodest_ \-- “Grindr,” and then that’s when Lucas gets into  _ those  _ pictures and sees way more than he wanted to. 

“ _ Okay, _ ” he shoves the phone back into Mikas hands, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to forget about everything that happened in the last 10 seconds. “Take it,” he urges, “I don’t want it anymore,” 

MIka laughs at his misery, getting a kick out of it. He knew exactly what he was doing, asshat. “But you didn’t pick one,” he mock whines. 

“I don’t want to! Go ask someone else,”

“But who--” 

“ _ Literally  _ anyone else, Mika, please,” Lucas starts pushing him out of the room, and his friend isn’t going easily but eventually the job gets done and once he finally gets the fucking images peeled off the insides of his damn eyelids, he can go back to obsessing over whether or not his outfit is good enough. 

\--

\--

He knocks on Elliot’s door about 4 minutes after their set time, and it isn't long before the door opens up and he’s met with bright blue eyes and another black t shirt. Luckily he likes black t shirts. 

He’s quickly pulled inside, no verbal greeting but when he’s pressed to the back of the door with hands cradling his face and a mouth on his, he decides he prefers this instead. When Elliot pulls back and Lucas is staring up at him through his eyelids, only then does the older boy smile and say, “Hi,” and Lucas breathes a fond laugh, 

“Hi, how are you?” 

Elliot shrugs, “Better now that you’re here,” 

It warms his heart - and his face - and he asks, “Yeah? Everything okay?” He gets a small nod in return, and then goes back in for another kiss. 

It all feels so natural with Elliot. Everything is simple and effortless but it still feels like there’s this huge, great thing between them. Something truly special. 

He breaks the kiss to peck the taller boy on his cheek, and then again moving up a little, and then again and again. And again. Elliot titters, hugging Lucas close. “You look nice today,” he speaks right into Lucas’ ear and sends a rippling shiver down his spine. 

“Are you implying that I don’t always?” Lucas teases, smiling against Elliot’s neck. They’re both still packed against the door but neither of them mind. 

“I didn’t want to say anything..” 

“Shut up,” Lucas laughs, untangling himself from where he’s wrapped around the other body and stepping away from the door. “Do you have any ice cream?” He asks, wandering backwards, eyes locked with Elliots. 

“No, but we can go get some if you want,” and Lucas smiles, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. Elliot rolls his eyes fondly, grabs his keys from the table and motions them towards the door. There’s a small market a short ways from his apartment and it doesn’t take them long to reach it. They browse the isles, Lucas grabbing a couple things here and there to fulfill his sweet tooth, until they find the ice cream and he stands in front, contemplating which flavor he wants when Elliot reaches in, grabs a pint of mint chip and Lucas looks at him expectantly. “What? Is this not what you wanted?” Elliot asks, reaching for the handle on the door to put it back and Lucas stops him with a hand on his arm. 

“How’d you know that?” 

“Eh.. I think you mentioned it once, I don’t know,” he shuffles back and forth on his feet, averting his eyes and Lucas thinks this is the first time he’s ever seen Elliot blush. He knows exactly when he mentioned it - when they were stuck under the bridge in the rain and swapping stories and Lucas had told him about the time Yann had dared him to eat the ice cream on a meatball sub, combining his two favorite foods. It was a funny story, sure, but Lucas didn’t expect Elliot to remember that tiny detail. 

Lucas’ mouth splits in a wide grin but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t want to make Elliot feel weird about it, but he can’t contain the joy that’s currently exploding inside of him. “Are you ready to go?” When he gets an answer, they make their ways to the front, paying for everything and each exiting with a plastic bag. They take their time walking back, and Lucas swings his bag at his side, humming quietly as he admires his surroundings. 

That is, until Elliot pulls out a cigarette, lights it, and Lucas can’t take his eyes off the way the boys cheeks hollow with every pull, the way his lips part as he blows smoke out, the way the cigarette looks so tiny placed between his fingers. He takes another drag, turns to Lucas and raises his eyebrows once, and smirks. He knows he looks good. Fuck, he knows. 

As they round the corner of the street, both of them too engaged in the other that neither of them see the person coming straight towards them until they collide right with her. 

_ Fuck,  _ Lucas has got to stop getting so distracted by Elliot that he runs into people. How many times has this happened now?

‘Oh!” The girl gasps, “I’m so sor--” she stops mid sentence, staring at the two boys with wide eyes. Or, really, staring at  _ one  _ of them with wide eyes, shock written all over her face. “Elliot?” She asks, confusion evident. Lucas looks over at the guy next to him, gaging his reaction, and is unsettled to find that he can’t really decipher what exactly Elliot is feeling because there are so many different emotions shown on his face that Lucas can’t really pick a one. 

Surprise and anger being the more obvious ones. But if you know Elliot and you can read him rather well, you’d be able to see the more hidden emotions, the secret ones that he tries not to show, for whatever reason. Heartbreak, sadness, fear. What Lucas is mainly focusing on though, is that none of what he’s getting by looking at Elliot is positive. Everything that he sees, everything that he  _ thinks  _ he sees is just bad. There’s no happiness, there’s nothing that conveys any form of  _ “oh, good to see you!”  _ It’s all just dread, and affliction, and just  _ displeasure.  _ Lucas has never seen the expressions on him before and to be quite honest, it worries him a bit. He didn’t even know Elliot  _ could  _ feel these things, he’s always just this huge ball of sunshine that you can’t look at without immediately smiling because his entire person just emanates  _ good.  _ And  _ light.  _

“Lucille,” Elliot forces out, and  _ oh,  _ Lucas thinks, this is-- this is not alright. Whatever is happening here, whatever this girl is bringing out in Elliot, Lucas doesn’t want it. His voice is scratchy and rough, dark and weighty and  _ nothing  _ like it was just 60 seconds ago when it was just him and Lucas, laughing and teasing and being all cute with each other. The sound coming out of his mouth, and the emotions and feelings that are flitting across his features right now are not anything that Lucas ever wants to experience with him again. They’re unpleasant and foreboding. Lucas doesn’t like this. 

“How, um--” she clears her throat nervously, looking down at the concrete and back up again, “How are you?” Lucas can see her movements out of the corner of his eye but he’s not actually looking at her, his eyes are locked on Elliot. Studying him, trying to figure out what he needs, making sure that he’s okay. Lucas is ready to act, he’s just waiting on the mark to go.

Elliot gulps, loudly, visibilly, and tension and uneasiness are just radiating off of him. His whole body is locked up, frozen in place, and Lucas isn’t even sure that he’s been blinking. He puts an arm on Elliot’s back, an attempt to ground him, or just to remind him that Lucas is here, Lucas is right beside him, he isn’t alone. He feels the body underneath his fingers loosen, just a  _ smidge,  _ not a lot at all. But it does loosen. And Lucas then decides to step in. 

“Hi,” he addresses this Lucille, smiling politely at her but in no way friendly. “Lucas,” he introduces himself and it’s like this is the first time the girl acknowledged him. Like she had no idea that there was a third party. She flicks her stare to his smaller frame but makes no move for anything so decides to forego offering his hand. “I hate to be rude but we should really get going,” he turns back to Elliot, who’s no longer staring blankly at Lucille, but his gaze is instead trained on Lucas, much softer now, a glint of gratitude hidden deep behind it but there’s still-- he still looks lost. And it’s still nowhere near as warm as it was before. Lucas faces Lucille again, “It was nice meeting you, excuse me,” he gently pushes Elliot forward, slipping past her and leading them as far as they need to be until they’re out of her sight. “Are you okay?” he asks worriedly, his hand still on Elliot’s back, rubbing circles into it. 

Elliot doesn’t say anything, not with his words, at least. But he does start panting, almost, his breaths coming in short and heavy and he puts a hand on the wall to steady himself. 

Lucas has seen enough of these to know what’s happening, he’s  _ experienced  _ enough of them to recognize it immediately. Elliot’s entire being is stiff, except for his shaking hands. His eyes are clenched shut but Lucas can still see tears running down his face. “Elliot, hey,” he tries, cupping his hands under the taller boys jaws, “Look at me,” Lucas’ voice is soft and gentle, yet firm, and he repeats himself until Elliot forces his eyes open, the beautiful blue tainted with panic and distress. “Can you take a deep breath for me? Breathe, it’s alright.” One of the hands that he has on Elliot’s face slips down to wrap around one of his, and as soon as Elliot feels it he grabs, holds on tight, squeezes. 

Lucas knows that there’s not really anything he can do but just reassure him that he’s safe and Lucas is here for him. When he goes through it himself, there hasn’t been anything that brings him down, brings him back, and he usually just waits it out, forcing himself to take deep breaths. But it does help to know that there’s someone there with him, someone who cares about him, someone that he trusts. Someone he  _ knows  _ he’s safe with. 

“Look,” Lucas says, inhaling deeply, “Breathe,” he releases. Elliot follows slowly as Lucas continues to reiterate, over and over again,  _ “You’re okay, you’re safe, I’m here,”  _ and he has no idea how many times he said it, or how long they stood there until the taller boys breaths were finally back to normal, his eyes focused again, staring at Lucas. The latter gives him a minute or two to gather himself, to calm down, and then he asks softly, “Has that ever happened to you before?” Elliot nods, still doesn’t say anything. Their hands are still clasped and Lucas grips back just as tightly as Elliot does. “Often?” 

Elliot shrugs and looks down, breaking their eye contact. “Sometimes,” he whispers, barely audible but his voice sounds like he smokes 5 packs a day and it pulls at the strings connected to Lucas’ heart. 

“Do you know why?” Another shrug. It’s clear that Elliot’s uncomfortable talking about this, and Lucas knows that he would probably feel the same way had the positions been switched. So he doesn’t push, doesn’t insist. “Hey,” he offers, and uses the hand on Elliot’s cheek to tilt his chin up tenderly, “You don’t have to tell me,” he smiles reassuringly, “but I am here if you do,” Elliot looks like he wants to say something, and he starts to open his mouth to but stops last minute, closes it, and ducks his head again. “Do you want to go back to yours?” It takes a few moments, the boy contemplating whether he does or not, and then provides a small, hardly noticeable nod. 

\--

\--

When Lucas was younger his mom got panic attacks pretty regularly. Dad was never really home for them so it was Lucas who had to handle it. His mom used to call for him as she sat crying in the floor of her bed room. He would kneel down beside her, wrap his arms around her and tell her that it would be okay. She was okay. He’d sit there with her for hours, sometimes. A 9 year old Lucas with an arm full of his mom. At first it would scare him, terrify him, even, because he would never know what was happening, just like when she got sad and locked herself in her room. Or when she would randomly lash out at him over the littlest of things, and then turn around begging for forgiveness, begging for him to believe that she  _ truly was sorry.  _ Or when she would wake him up in the middle of the night reciting scripture, lecturing him on what it means to be a true follower of God, a disciple, and how he was  _ born for it.  _

When you go through this with someone, you would think that it builds your relationship with them. Like, you have this strong, really powerful connection because you’ve been through so much with each other and when they hurt, you hurt; when they’re feeling joy, you feel joy; what happens to them happens to you. It pains you to be apart from them. 

At 9 years old his mom was the most important thing to him. He just wanted to help her, he just wanted her to be okay. He was put in a position by his father that called for him to grow up sooner than he should have. The things that he saw, the things he dealt with, it wasn’t what someone at that age should have _ had _ to deal with, and especially not by themselves. And yet he did. And he got through it, sure, and it prepared him for the world, maybe, taught him how to stay calm and step up when disaster hits. 

And he did it  _ for so long.  _ He handled it by himself for  _ so long.  _ And he was good for it, he was fine with it, it became normal for him. Because he loved her. 

And he was the only one she had. He was the only one who would. 

Do you have any idea how much pressure that put on him?

That’s why, when his dad finally caved and left them, and his mom was ruled unstable and was taken away from him, he felt relieved. He didn’t have to do it anymore. He didn’t have to be the parent to his parent anymore. He could  _ live  _ and  _ be a teenager  _ and actually  _ have fun.  _ She was no longer his responsibility. 

And damn if that didn’t feel amazing but weigh him down with  _ a shit load  _ of guilt, too. 

Now he can’t hardly stand to be in the same room with her. Not because he resents her, though he does resent the fact the he never got to be a kid, and not because he doesn’t love her, he still does, with all of his heart. But because he  _ still  _ feels relief. And with every ounce of that he feels, there are 4 gallons of guilt to go with it. And yet that still doesn’t seem to be enough. 

\--

\--

He can tell that Elliot feels weird about the fact that Lucas had to help him through a panic attack. Even if Lucas doesn’t think he helped all that much. 

Lucas tries to carry on like normal. He doesn’t ignore it and try to forget about it and act like it wasn’t thing, but like it  _ was a thing  _ and it was okay and there are no worries, no judgement because  _ it happens.  _

He doesn’t bombard Elliot with,  _ Are you okay _ s and  _ Do you need anything _ s. But he’s still there. He’s still offering an ear. He’s still offering his mere presence because he knows how helpful just that can be. 

They’re both sprawled out on Elliot’s couch, close, but not touching. Their bodies are reclined as they’re sunk down in the cushions with their feet propped up on the coffee table. Not for the first time, there’s a movie playing that he  _ knows  _ neither of them are paying attention to but they’re both still watching. 

Until Elliot speaks and Lucas almost misses it because it’s so low and hushed. “I’m sorry,” He looks over and Elliot fidgeting with his fingers in his lap, picking at his nails and purposely avoiding Lucas' eyes. Or maybe even looking at him at all. Any part of him. 

“For what?” 

“I didn’t mean to freak out like that. It hasn’t happened in a while and I don’t know-- sucks that you had to see it, I guess. It was supposed to be a good day.” 

“It’s still a good day,” Lucas furrows his eyebrows and shifts in his seat to face the person next to him. When Elliot fails to respond after a few moments, Lucas takes a breath. “I get them sometimes,” he waits for a reaction, and it’s not much, but Elliot looks at Lucas through his peripheral and waits for him to continue. “I used to get them a lot after my parents got divorced. You shouldn’t feel embarrassed by it. People have panic attacks, it’s just something that happens and we can’t control it and it fucking sucks but you shouldn’t feel like you have to keep it to yourself. And you certainly shouldn't apologize for it.” 

Elliot’s quiet. As he has been. And Lucas really isn’t expecting a response, and he’s okay with that because Elliot’s going to handle this how Elliot handles this. And that’s perfectly acceptable. But Lucas just really isn’t expecting it when Elliot exclaims, “She’s my ex-girlfriend,” 

..Oh? 

“We didn’t end on good terms, if you couldn’t tell,” he continues. “It took me by surprise, seeing her. And-- I don’t know, I just wasn’t prepared for it.” 

So there’s definitely more to the story than that because it was a very large and heavy reaction, but as curious as Lucas is, it’s Elliot who will decide what he knows and doesn’t know. Still, Lucas questions, “Do you--” 

“No,” Elliot shakes his head and Lucas can see him pull his bottom lip in between his teeth. “Not today.” 

“Of course,” he faces back the way that he was, returning his attention to the movie. 

“Lucas?” 

“Yeah?” 

Pause, and then, “Can you play something on the piano?” 

And Lucas smiles, “Of course,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo as much as I ended up liking Lucille, I've decided to take that storyline in a bit of a different direction than what's canon.
> 
> also 10 points for anyone who can guess the mint chip + meatball sub reference


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she is a long one but we celebrate cuz we are MECS, people

Hands. Everywhere. On his rib cage, behind his neck, under his arms. Fingers wiggling, dancing on his skin and he’s  _ dying.  _

Lucas hates being tickled. There’s nothing in the entire universe that he hates more than being tickled. And yet, here he is,  _ being tickled.  _ He can’t even catch a breath he’s laughing so hard, his whole body is shaking, trying to shy away from the touch, get out of reach, make it stop, but he’s trapped. He can’t get out.  “Elliot,” he wheezes, “St-stop,” but it doesn’t work. Elliot’s having too much fun. And even though Lucas can barely hear the boys’ laughter over his own cries of help, it sounds  _ glorious.  _ “P-please,” he thinks he feels tears skim down his face but honestly he doesn’t know. 

“I’m sorry, what?” Elliot asks, dipping his head down to Lucas’ neck and nosing behind his ear. It didn’t take long for him to figure out that Lucas’ weakest spot is his neck. The lightest touch, the gentlest breath of air is enough for his entire body to collapse and just stop functioning. “I can’t hear you,” he speaks right into Lucas ear is and it sends shivers down the smaller boys’ spine. 

Lucas pushes at Elliot’s chest, trying to escape from underneath him but it’s no luck. He doesn’t stop fighting though, still flailing where he’s trapped between a rock hard body and the mattress. It’s no match for him. 

He’s feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, once, twice, and a few more times, alerting him he’s got text messages. “Wait, wait,” he begs as fingers dig into the sides of his abdomen and he buries his face in Elliot’s chest as muffled chuckles escape him. “Wait, someone’s texting me,” 

He finally gets some release, Elliot taking pity on him and dropping his hands, pulling back with a grin the size of texas plastered on his face. Lucas leans up, kisses his cheek, and then squirms and moves until his back is facing Elliot, the taller boy still positioned over him, wrapping an arm around Lucas’ shoulders and resting his chin on one side. “Who is it?” 

“The guys,” Lucas scrolls through the messages, catching himself up on the plans that they had apparently made for Friday. 

**_Yann_ **

_ What time do you want to meet up? _

_ Not before 20h _

**_Arthur_ **

_ Where at?  _

_ Lulu’s?  _

**_Basile_ **

_ Ooh maybe the girls will be there!  _

**_Arthur_ **

_ Give it a rest, Baz, this is getting painful  _

**_Yann_ **

_ Is that okay with you Lucas? _

**_Arthur_ **

_ LULU _

Lucas replies with a quick,  _ Good with me,  _ and feels a huff of breath on his neck that makes his hair stick up. He looks out of the corner of his eye, turns his head a little, “What?” 

“Lulu?” Elliot asks, teasing him and Lucas rolls his eyes as his face tints pink. 

“It’s a dumb nickname,” he mutters abashedly. Elliot twists a few strands of his hair between his fingers. 

“I think it’s cute,” and after a few seconds, “Your friends seem cool,” there’s something hidden in his voice that Lucas can’t quite tell what it is. 

“Yeah, they’re pretty great. Do you…” he trails off, trying to figure out whether he should finish the sentence or not. “Want to meet them? Sometime?” He feels Elliot perk up.

“Do you want me to?” 

“Well yeah, if you’d be comfortable with it, I don’t really--” he shrugs, unable to convey his words correctly. 

“I’d like to.” Elliot grins and squeezes his arm around Lucas’ shoulder, giddy. It’s adorable how overwhelmingly pleased he gets by the simplest things that Lucas agrees to. “Besides, my friends have been bugging to meet you anyways, so..” 

“You told them about me?” He feels like this is a conversation they should having face to face, not face to back, so he lifts himself up and feels Elliot lift up to, and he shifts until he’s turned around all the way. Elliot’s sitting up right, no longer hovering above him and Lucas misses the closeness, the invasion of the personal space. He liked when they were the same bubble, not seperate. 

“Well yeah,” Elliot exclaims like it’s so obvious, like why wouldn’t he have told them? Why wouldn’t he be gushing about their time spent together? Why wouldn’t he be dying to gossip to them every single time he so much as thinks about the other boy? “Didn’t you?” 

In Lucas’ defense, neither of them have been public with their displays of affection. It was like some silent agreement that they just wouldn’t be out and about all lovey dovey in the school. Not to say Lucas didn’t  _ want  _ that, but it happened like that and he didn't exactly mind anyways. But maybe Elliot just got the feeling that it was what Lucas wanted and so he went with it and now here they are. 

Communication is key, apparently. 

And that still doesn’t explain why he chose to keep it from his friends, and Lucas can’t exactly tell him that it was because he was selfish and didn’t want to share Elliot with anyone else. 

“I..will,” he purses his lips and looks around awkwardly, avoiding Elliot’s gaze because he’s too worried about what he’ll see in it. “Hang out with us friday. Please,” 

The guy looks like he has to fucking think about it, as if he can’t decide whether or not he actually wants to, and then he nods, “Alright,” 

“Yeah?” Lucas asks, leaning forward and rejoining their bubbles, “They’re gonna love you,” he kisses the side of Elliot’s mouth, wrapping his arms around his neck and smiling against his skin. 

“Let’s hope so,” he slips his hands behind Lucas' waist and intertwines his fingers above his lower back. “It’d be a little awkward in our relationship if they didn’t,” 

The words cause him to freeze from where he’s peppering kisses across Elliot’s face.  _ Relationship.  _ The way it was said, it was light hearted, almost as if he was joking, but Lucas knows he wasn’t. It’s not even the first time that Elliot’s used the word before when relating to the two of them, now that Lucas thinks about it. He used it before they ever even spoke in person.  _ Our relationship.  _ Heat sparks from deep inside him and it spreads quickly, rapidly, lighting his entire body. 

So, confirmed. He’s in a relationship, evidently. With Elliot fucking Demaury. The butterflies in his belly are awake and doing fucking line dances. It’s an incredible feeling. 

He pulls back so that he can peer into Elliot’s eyes and he doesn’t speak, doesn’t taint the moment with words. But he does put everything that he’s feeling, all the joy, all the nerves, all the triumph and adoration and just sheer ardor that’s burning like a fucking fire inside of him, he takes it all and he conveys it through a single kiss. A long, sweet, loving kiss. 

And even when they disconnect, even when Elliot flips them and throws Lucas back on the mattress just to climb back between his legs and start tickling him all fucking over again, he still feels nothing but elation. 

\--

\--

Lucas decided to tell Yann and Manon before he told anyone. He pulls them aside after class one day, right before his free period, and he starts off as simply and as blunt as possible, “So I’ve been seeing someone, and uh-- it’s Elliot from 3rd year.” Just like that. No beating around the bush. Right to the point and completely honest. 

In reply, he gets two surprised stares before Yann jumps forward with a hand to his shoulder, aggressively pulling him into a hug, he exclaims proudly, “Dude,  _ score _ ,” and Lucas’ laugh vibrates straight from his stomach. 

Manon gives him a knowing grin and wraps her arms around him as well. “I’m happy for you, I can’t wait to meet him,” 

It’s not like Lucas didn’t know that he wasn’t going to get showered with endless support, because he  _ does know  _ that. It’s just, each time it happens he can’t help but to feel surprised by it. No matter what. Every single time he’s struck with how lucky he is to have a group of friends who are constantly expressing their love for each other. Constantly looking out for each other. Constantly being amazing to each other. It astounds him. 

“That’s actually something I wanted to ask you about,” he turns to Yann, “Do you think he could join us on friday?” He doesn’t mean to sound as shy about it as he does, he’s just a little bit nervous about introductions and how everyone’s going to react to each other. It’s important to him that Elliot likes his friends and his friends like Elliot. 

“Are you kidding? Yes, of course, bro!” Yann sounds more excited about it than Lucas does, and that warms his heart immensely. 

“Okay, don’t say anything to Baz and Arthur yet, alright?"

“Totally,” he makes a zipping motion on his mouth, locking it up and throwing away the key. It appears to be a little difficult for him though because he can’t seem to contain his smile. Lucas knows how he feels. 

\--

\--

He’s sitting at the table working on his homework with Alexia from the class that they have together. There’s other people buzzing about in the room too but he doesn’t mind, he already knows the material and he’s mostly just completing the paper on autopilot. His phone buzzes on the table and he chooses to ignore it, but then it buzzes immediately after and then again a third time and he sighs. 

**_Mika_ **

_ Manon told me about the news! _

_ Congrats, Kitten! _

_ We’ve been wondering how long it was going to take for you to tell us ;) _

**_Lucas_ **

_??What _

**_Mika_ **

_ The walls are thin, my love. We can hear you on the phone almost every night, even if we don’t want to _

_ Very cute. _

Lucas blushes even though there’s no real reason to. His phone calls with Elliot are completely innocent but he’s still weird about other people hearing, just because there’s a certain vulnerability that comes out when he’s around Elliot that a lot of people haven’t seen yet. 

When you see someone around their partner, you see a different glimpse of them because people act differently when they’re in relationships. Sometimes it’s a negative reaction, like they start to change and they’re not themselves and they do whatever the person tells them to, no questions asked. But sometimes it’s not like that. Sometimes they’re just  _ soft.  _ A certain tenderness. And Lucas  _ knows  _ that it’s there with him and Elliot. And his friends have never seen him in a relationship before, not a  _ real  _ one like this. What if they make fun of him? Out of love, of course, what else? But teasing is teasing and they all love to tease each other. 

How is Lucas supposed to act around them? How is he supposed to act around Elliot? 

It gives him a headache thinking about it and he leans back in his chair, throwing his pencil down. Running his hands through his hair, he glances over at Alexia to see her playing on her phone. “How are things with that girl?” He asks, genuinely curious and in need of a distraction. 

Her face melts into a grin at the mere mention of the girl, “Really great,” she says, “She’s really great,” She’s got that love sick expression written all over her face that Yann used to get when he talked about Emma, and vice versa. The one Lucas most likely gets when he talks to Elliot, or sees Elliot, or thinks about Elliot, or-- yeah. 

“Have the girls met her yet?” 

“Yeah! They like her a lot, actually. She fits in really well so that’s good,” 

“Who fits in well?” 

Lucas turns around to see Emma stalking over to them. She high gives him and then flips him off, a thing they’ve done since they first became friends, and then she tosses her bag on the floor before sliding onto the table, swinging her legs. 

“Margaux,” 

“Oh yeah! She’s super cool. Is she coming friday?” 

Alexia nods with a pleased smile. Lucas flicks his eyes back and forth as each of them speak, “What are you doing friday?” he asks them, scooting forward in his seat and setting his elbows on the table, chin in his hands. 

“We’re going to some bar that Daphne wanted to try, like 20 minutes outside of the city,” she shakes her head with a slight eye roll and Lucas chuckles and offers, “You should come by the flat afterwards, the guys are hanging out,” 

Soon after they all agree to get together, the bell dings for the next period and Lucas kisses them both goodbye, diving into the throng of students in the hallway, all standing on the side talking, searching about in their lockers or rushing to their classrooms. It's always chaotic in the halls and Lucas’ number one thing that he hates about being in school. As he stops by and sifts through his own cubby, he feels a pat on his shoulder and he turns around, expecting it to be one of his friends but is instead met with the second most beautiful boy in the entire school. 

Sofiane smiles at him, and it’s so fucking gorgeous and bright that he almost wants to compare it to Elliot's but decides no, they're both incomparable. And plus he could never feel about anything as great as he does Elliot’s smile, except maybe Elliot himself. “Uhh--” Lucas stammers, unsure what to say, trying so hard to be cool about this shit that he just ends up trying  _ too _ hard and making himself look like an idiot. 

But can you blame him? He's awestruck. He doesn't know why this guy is talking to him. He doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what to say. He’s taken aback, confused, his brain is a fumbling mess because he’s still reeling from being  _ this close  _ to Sofiane, Elliot’s best friend, and that's why, when the guy says, “Hi,” to Lucas and his voice is as soft as his fucking eyes, Lucas’ reply is, 

“Good, how are you?” 

And Sofiane, bless his damn heart, only furrows his eyebrows in a chuckle and responds, “Can’t complain,” as he throws his amrs up in a shrug. 

Lucas blinks in embarrassment, knows his face is probably red as a fucking lobster and only getting deeper with every passing moment. “Um, sorry..” he mumbles, looking down. Sofiane only smiles even bigger, if it's at all possible, and pats Lucas on the shoulder. 

“It’s okay, I only wanted to introduce myself. I’m Sofiane,” he holds out a hand and unlike last time with Idriss, it doesn't take him a whole 6 seconds to register. He actually shakes back in a decent manner, trying to restore his composure. 

“Lucas,” 

“Lucas,” Sofiane repeats with a nod, like he just wanted to try it out himself, like it was new knowledge, and Lucas doesn't understand why because he’s sure Sofiane knows who he is. Elliot even said so. And why else would he even be over here if he didn't?? “Well nice to meet you, Lucas,” 

“You, too,” the smaller boy smiles politely, and Sofiane waves, turning away from him and Lucas watches him go for a few more seconds before shifting back to face his locker, gathering the rest of his belongings and heading to class.

So far Elliot’s friends seem nice enough, and Lucas wonders about how he’s met two of them so far, both the closest to Elliot out of all of them, and Elliot hasn’t met any of Lucas’. He feels bad about it, guilty, even though in 2 days they’ll all be introduced,  but maybe he should have said something sooner. He saw the look on Elliot’s face, heard the hurt in his soft “oh” when Lucas had pretty much admitted his friends knew nothing of his new interest. He doesn’t want it to throw Elliot off, doesn’t want him to think that he’s not someone to be gushed and gossiped about to friends. 

Or maybe Lucas is just being dramatic and overthinking it like he always does and Elliot didn’t think anything of it. 

\--

\--

When Friday evening comes the guys have all brought beers and pizza, spreading out in the flats living room. They’ve been here for about 30 minutes already, Lucas in the love seat and the rest of the boys on the couch. Elliot texted him earlier and told him that he might be a few minutes late, which is okay, but Lucas just wishes he would get here already. The anticipation is killing him. And he really wanted Elliot to come when Manon was still here so that she could meet him first, but she left before anyone else arrived so Lucas guesses it’ll just have to wait. 

Luckily, though, Elliot texted him about 10 minutes ago and said he was on his way so it shouldn’t be too long now before he gets here. 

Arthur and Yann are in the middle of battling each other in  _ Smash  _ while Lucas watches unentertained and Basile plays on his phone. They always get super hyped when they’re playing, yelling enthusiastically at each other, jumping around, stomping their feet. Sometimes someone will nudge the other player to try and catch them off guard, and sometimes Lucas will intentionally walk in front of the screen, taking as much time as he needs to just piss off whoever’s playing. He’s not really a video game guy but everyone else is so he bears it. 

Yann’s just about to kill Arthur for the last time when Basile lets out a high pitched squeal, grabs Yann’s arm excitedly and exclaims, “Guys! Daphne and the girls are at a bar!” He’s shaking Yann’s arm, making the other guy fumble with his fingers on the controller and Arthur ends up killing him, winning.

“Dude!” Yann bellows, punching Basile in his bicep and Basile cries out in mock pain, throwing a hand over the spot and rubbing, a gutted expression on his face. 

“ _ Ow! _ ” 

Lucas rolls his eyes, chuckles fondly from his spot on the side and shakes his head. 

“So,” Arthur starts and he looks rather smug due to his recent victory, “What about a bar?” 

“We’re not going to a bar,” Yann answers, still glaring at Basile. There’s a tiny chorus of  _ why’s _ that makes Lucas wish that it didn’t have to be a big deal, they could stay in for  _ one  _ night and hang out, play some games and the guys not make a fuss about it the entire time. As Yann, thankfully, begins to explain this to them, there’s a soft knock on the door that makes Lucas’ insides twirl, and everyone’s attention is briefly focused on that, Arthur asking, 

“Are we expecting someone?” 

Lucas doesn’t answer, just stands up, straightens his shirt out, fixes his hair in mirror in the hallway and then takes a shaky breath as he turns the doorknob. Elliot looks beautiful, as always, and this time he’s wearing a black  _ turtleneck  _ that almost makes Lucas’ knees buckle at the sight. His sweet grin immediately soothes Lucas’ nerves, being everything that he needed right now. “Hi,” he greets, his whole body buzzing. He holds out his hand, a case of beer held tight between his fingers. “I, uh-- I didn’t know what else to bring..” he trails of sheepishly, looking off to the side.

_ Fuck, he’s so cute,  _ Lucas thinks, and can no longer suppress the need to  _ touch,  _ so he flings himself dorward, wraps his arms around Elliot’s neck and basks in the way the taller boys arms tighten around his waist. He inhales deeply, savoring the different smells of sweat, cologne, cigarette smoke. A scent has never really been anything that matters to him a whole lot, and cigarette smoke, nor  _ sweat  _ have ever been too terribly appealing to him before he met Elliot. Now it’s quickly become his favorite thing. 

“Missed you,” he whispers into the skin under Elliot’s ear. He can’t believe he’s become one of those people who can’t be without their partners for more than a couple hours. He misses Elliot from the moment they depart to the moment they reconnect and he  _ doesn’t even care.  _

The older boy lets out a breathy laugh, “You only saw me a couple of hours ago,” and this conversation is strikingly similar to one they had around almost 2 months ago, when they met up at school and it was Elliot who told Lucas how much he missed him, to which Lucas replied,  _ “You saw me yesterday,”  _

“I know, I know,” Lucas says, pulling back with the intention of separating, putting some distance between their bodies so he can get a move on with these damn introductions, but Elliot only slams their chests back together, planting a firm kiss to Lucas’ mouth. 

“Missed you more,” 

If it were up to Lucas, they would stand in that doorway forever, just the two of them, or somehow sneak off and be alone and not have to be around anyone else and it would be private and sweet and intimate, but he  _ can’t.  _ So he begrudgingly takes Elliot’s hand, pulls him down the small hall and into the living room. Arthur and Basile have started another game and Yann’s sitting to the left, trying to coach Basile into just being better but it doesn’t seem to be working, from the looks of it. 

Lucas clears his throat, waits for everyone to notice him, and they all look very unimpressed until they see who Lucas is standing with, and then they freeze, shocked. Except for Yann, who hasn’t stopped smiling toothily and tapping his foot eagerly since he looked over.

“Um,” Lucas starts, lips splitting into the smallest and shyest of grins and he bites his bottom one anxiously. “You've seen Elliot around, right?” 

Arthur nods slowly, dumbstruck, and Basile whispers something under his breath that Lucas thinks sounded like  _ Jesus Christ _ but he’s not sure. 

“He’s my boyfriend,” and  _ wow does it send a tingly feeling throughout his body when he says that outloud.  _

3 seconds, 4 seconds, and then 6 seconds pass before Lucas gets any type of reaction from the boys (other than Yann, who's  _ still  _ got this huge fucking smile on his face but hasn't moved at all) and when he does, it's Arthur and Basile and they both burst into a fit of guffaws, clutching onto each other for support. Lucas stares at them in a mix of confusion paired with a little bit of anger. He looks over at Elliot, who's equally confused, if not a bit amused by the reaction.

When the two dumbasses finally stop embarrassing themselves, plus Lucas, and get a grip on themselves, it’s Basile who speaks first. “Okay,” he says condescendingly, not the least bit convinced, and it's followed immediately after by Arthur's, “Good one, Lulu,” before he takes a sip of his beer. 

Yann apparently decides it's time to snap out of whatever Elliot-triggered daze he’s in a jumps up, smacking his friends on the back of their heads, mumbling, “You guys are idiots,” as he ambles over to reach out a hand to Elliot. “I’m Yann,” he beams kindly, genuinely. Lucas has never been more thankful for him as he was in that moment. 

“Elliot. Lucas has told me a lot about you,” 

Yann nods, pleased, like he’s definitely going to circle back around to that at some point. 

Lucas smiles warmly at the two interacting, and then points to his friends on the couch, “These two assholes are Arthur and Basile,” 

“Wait,” Arthur speaks, “You guys are serious?” Lucas refrains from replying, only glaring, annoyed, and Yann makes a  _ what the fuck  _ expression to them. Both boys look at each other and then hop to their feet, scrambling over and pushing each other out of the way to meet Elliot. “We’re so sorry, we thought you were joking,” 

“Yeah it’s really nice to meet you, we didn't know our little Lucas had a boyfriend,” They stammer out and talk over each other and Lucas worries that it might be a bit much for Elliot, but they’re really not this galling usually. They know how to behave, Lucas knows they do. He’s seen it before. 

But Elliot handles it perfectly well, not taken aback by the slightest. Just grins his beautiful grin and introduces himself easily. When it's all said and done Lucas urges everyone to sit down, he and Elliot occupying the loveseat. The latter throws an arm over the back and rests it just above Lucas’ shoulders. 

“So what were you guys up to?” Elliot inquires. 

Yann reaches for a controller, “Just some  _ Smash Bros.  _ You play?” Elliot shakes his head no, admitting he’s never been much into video games. “Oh, dude, that’s fine. Do you want to try anyways?” 

“I’ll teach you!” Basile butts in, and Lucas is quick to stomp on that. 

“ _ I _ can teach him,” he says petulantly, irritated from the moments before.

Arthur snorts, “Now  _ that's _ a good one, Lulu,” 

“Fuck you, I can play.” He tries to catch Yann’s eye but the guy is actively avoiding his. Lucas huffs and crosses his arms in a childlike manner. Elliot chuckles at him cutely and winks, getting up to squish himself in the spot Arthur and Basile have made for him. 

Elliot ends up being a worse player than Lucas, which says something because Lucas is  _ bad _ and just ends up button smashing real hard and sometimes it gets him a real cool win but more often than not it gets him a real cool death

When Yann deems the older boy hopeless, he gets up and moves back over to Lucas, who reserves his place tucked right under Elliot’s arm. They watch Yann and Arthur battle again, and that's how the night goes for about an hour, maybe an hour and a half, with some short conversations in between matches about how the new couple met and who made the first move.  It didn't take much convincing for them to believe that it was Elliot who was the one who reached out. Somehow the seating arrangement at lunch was brought up and Elliot mentioned how he doesn't sit that far away from them, only a few tables behind them and Arthur replies in realization, “Oh, so that's who you're always staring at behind us,” 

“I don't _ always _ stare,” Lucas pouts, because it's a bit of an exaggeration, and Yann scoffs, 

“Yes you do. I’ve always wondered why you daze out every time either of us talk to you at the table and it makes so much more sense now,” 

“Or,” Lucas retorts, “Maybe you're both just extremely boring and can't hold my attention long enough,” he raises a defiant eyebrow and Arthur reels back with a hand over his heart in mock defence. 

“Ouch,” he says, while Yann just laughs. 

\--

\--

Lucas went into the kitchen to get more beers, and Elliot followed him there. “Your friends are nice,” he offers while he presses his boyfriend's back into the counter with his weight. Lucas pushes back but only so that he can hop onto it and Elliot slot between his legs. 

“Yeah?” he asks, his arms hanging loosely around the taller boys shoulders, and Elliot slides his hands up Lucas’ thighs. “So you’re having fun?” 

“Loads,” Elliot responds, placing an open mouthed kiss to Lucas’ neck. “A blast, actually,” Another kiss. Lucas shudders, tilting his head back in pleasure. “Really?” he asks breathily and Elliot hums, planting yet another kiss under his jaw. It takes all of Lucas’ willpower for him not full on  _ moan  _ right here and now. 

One of his hands slides up to card through Elliot’s hair and he tightens his grip slightly when the boys starts mouthing behind his ear. “Elliot,” he whispers, and it feels so fucking good but it’s  _ such  _ a bad idea to start with the guys  _ literally  _ right behind the wall. “B-Baby,” and okay, he doesn’t know where that comes from because he’s  _ never  _ been a pet name type of guy before but here he is, pet naming, and oddly enough, he doesn’t hate it. It came naturally. And Elliot doesn’t seem to hate it much either because he  _ finally  _ stops nibbling at Lucas’ neck, leans back, looks him right in the eye and demands, 

“Say it again.” 

Lucas eyes him, can practically hear his own heartbeat racing, his blood pulsing in his ears. “Baby,” and Elliot all but tackles his mouth, plunging his tongue between Lucas’ lips and  _ dominating.  _ Lucas clings to Elliot, holding on tight and pushing back just as much. The kiss is hot and rough and  _ toe curling  _ and fucking amazing. When they break apart there’s a string of spit and both of their lips are red and kiss swollen, Elliot’s hair more disheveled than usual because of Lucas’ hand running through it. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Elliot murmurs, pinning Lucas under his gaze and making him want to squirm. 

“Ditto,” 

They kiss chastly a couple more times, Lucas keeping them short and simple, and then they both fix each other up, straightening the others hair, making sure their shirts aren’t wrinkly from all the grabbing, and then they head back into the living room empty handed. 

“Beers?” Arthur asks while Yann just considers them with a knowing smirk. 

“Oh, right,” 

—

—

The girls crowd in at some point and none of them really blink an eye when they see Elliot and Lucas pressed into each other’s sides, except for Daphne who makes no attempt at hiding her confusion, nor does she try to keep her thoughts  _ inside  _ her head instead of thinking out loud. 

“Lucas, you’re gay? Wait, sorry, I forgot.” she laughs innocently. “This is the first boy I've seen you with!” Her eyes shift to the floor in contemplation, “but wait, so does this mean you two are dating? No way. The two hottest guys in school are taken by  _ each other.  _ What am I supposed to do now?” 

“Daphne,” Imane deadpans, the same level of  _ done _ in her voice as always as she’s perched on the side of the couch by Manon, “You didn't really have a chance with them anyways if they were gay,” 

“Uh, I’m pan, actually,” Elliot speaks up, smiling bashfully and Lucas just wants to kiss every single inch of his perfect fucking face because he's  _ so damn adorable.  _ Like a freaking puppy. All innocent and cute and pure. 

But also the information he just volunteered about himself was news to Lucas and he finds it rather interesting. Learning new things about each other everyday. 

“Dude!” Alexia squeals ardently, “Bi Pan solidarity!” And gives Elliot an enthusiastic high five.

 

When they all get bored of sitting around chatting, drinking, smoking, someone suggests they play a game. No party game like truth or dare, or seven minutes in heaven, but like, an  _ actual _ game that everyone can enjoy and laugh and have fun doing without drinking. Arthur says he doesn't want to play Apples to Apples, which everyone mostly agrees with, and Elliot proposes a game he used to play when he was younger, but it should be a lot more fun considering the majority of them are not so sober. 

There’s a brown paper bag sat in the middle of the floor. The object of the game is that everyone takes a turn reaching for it with their mouths, but you can't use your arms and you can't bend your legs. After every round you cut the bag an inch and it just gets shorter and shorter. If you fall or cheat, you're out. 

Basile and Arthur both seem a bit wary about it at first, thinking it's going to be lame and too easy. They're quickly proven wrong, however, when it's round 3 and they're both dizzy from the all the bending over mixed with the alcohol and weed in their systems. The girls all go about it like it's nothing, and it's particularly harder for Yann and Elliot with their heights. Lucas doesn't really struggle all that much either except for when he’s supposed to be concentrating on what his body is doing and he makes the mistake of glancing at Elliot, who’s already watching him with a hungry stare, his face dark. Lucas almost falters but he catches himself before. 

It's when the bag is only about 3 inches off the ground that things really get entertaining. Basile is the first to slip, losing his balance and falling face first into the rug. Emma’s out too, her feet betraying her and she slides into a split and then doesn't stop. Elliot gives up, and eventually so do Arthur and Yann. 

An inch left and its between Lucas and Imane. It's been completely effortless for her and Lucas  _ knows  _ there's no point because he was having a bit of a hard time on the last round, fumbling several times and almost slipping. 

He walks up to the bag, cracks his neck on either side and stretches out his body. He looks at Elliot, who winks at him for good luck, and Yann send him a thumbs up. He takes a deep breath, spreads his legs until he gets to the width and height that he wants. His foot wants to keep sliding but then there’s something there, something firm pushing back and Lucas can see Elliot’s shoe out of the corner of his eye, subtly helping him.

He leans forward and he’s  _ so  _ close. So fucking close. If he could just stick out his tongue and catch it then he could -- he feels his body leaning, and leaning, and he hastily and without thought throws his hand out to support himself. A mixed crowd of cheers and boos explode from the couch and he huffs out a breath, can’t believing he just did that. When he looks up the first pair of  eyes he catches are Elliot’s, and he’s looking back at him with amusement and pity, holding out his arm for Lucas to bury himself under. “You were close,” he whispers, his words a bandage for Lucas’ wounded pride, and kisses his temple. 

“Alright, alright,” Imane saunters over to the bag, challenge accepted, “No one’s won yet,” she pushes up the sleeves to her sweatshirt. As easily as cutting a slice of cake, she moves about it the same way the Lucas had, but this time she doesn’t fail. Within seconds she’s got the bag in her mouth, throwing her hands up in victory and everyone goes wild, screaming and rallying, surrounding Imane with hugs and high fives. 

When everyone’s settled down she holds her arm out for Lucas to shake, which he accepts greatly, “You were decent competition,” she shrugs nonchalantly. Lucas outright laughs, tossing his head back. 

“Thanks, you too,” 

He is incredibly fucking warm right now and that's the only thing running through his mind. He peeks at each person in the room, everyone in here meaning the absolute world to him, the only one missing is Mika. But he’s still happy, he’s still content. He feels absolutely marvelous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <333333


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for any mistakes! i read through it as best i could but i'm vvvv tired so

A month and Lucas hasn’t heard from his father. He figured the guy had dropped everything, decided that maybe he didn’t have to be that much of a dick and he could just fuck off until he needed to send some money like the good ole days. Apparently not. 

When Lucas visited his mother earlier the first thing she told him was that his dad had come to see her. She was happy about it, which broke Lucas’ heart and pissed him off at the same time. He spit out a rough, “When?” to which she replied, _“_ Just the other day. He promised me he’d start visiting more,” she sounded so hopeful, so much better than Lucas has heard her in _months_ and he had no idea what to do. 

“Mama,” he told her, “Dad’s not a nice person, remember? He’s mean to us,” Evidently it wasn’t the correct thing to say to her because she flipped out on him, yelled at him, argued with him, and it ended with her telling him to leave and Lucas walked out with his ears down and his tail tucked between his legs. 

Now he walks home, ringing his dad 3 times already and still hasn’t gotten an answer.  _ Coward,  _ he thinks to himself as he presses the contact for the fourth time. To Lucas’ surprise, after the sixth ring, there’s a curt,  _ “Yes, Lucas?”  _

Fuck, the audacity on this man. “Are you fucking serious?” Lucas starts angrily, “You have no idea what your being there is doing to her,” 

_ “I’m just visiting my wife, Lucas,”  _

“She’s not your fucking wife anymore, dad. Or did you forget that you walked out on her the minute things got too hard for you and then sent her divorce papers after 4 months of no contact?” 

_ “It’s more complicated than you think, son--”  _

“You’re an asshole, is what I think,” doesn't sound that complicated. 

_ “Well I’m sorry that you feel that way, Lucas, but there isn’t much that I can do about it.”  _

It’s infuriating trying to deal with him. The constant fake apologies, the  _ I’m sorry you feel that way _ ’s. It’s never genuine, it’s never,  _ I’m sorry that I’m acting like a dick and it’s fucked up both you and your mother’s lives.  _ What you’re feeling is  _ your  _ fault. It’s got nothing to do with his actions. Maybe you just need to have better control of your emotions. 

Lucas takes a breath, knows that anger isn’t going to solve anything and he should try to have an actual conversation with him. “What is it that you want with her, anyways?” He’s still upset, still makes sure it’s noticeable in his tone, but he’s calmer. He’s making an effort to sound reasonable. 

_ “I already told you this,”  _ the man says,  _ “I’d like to be a part of what goes on in your mother’s life, Lucas. I think she’s too unstable to make decisions for herself and I don’t trust anyone else to do it so I think it would be better off if everything was discussed with me before any major decisions are made.”  _

It takes  _ actual  _ strength for Lucas to not chuck his phone at the wall he’s walking past. “Okay,” he says easily, “Well, I think that she’s done  _ just fine  _ without you over the years and you don’t get to just  _ be involved _ again out of nowhere.” The truth is, he can tell that she’s not been great. He can tell that she’s lying about therapy. He can tell she’s been more short tempered lately. He’s been receiving more scripture subjected texts than usual. And Lucas has seen this before, multiple times, where  _ she knows  _ that something’s up with her, she knows she’s acting differently and so she tries to act herself, act normal as not to raise any red flags, and then ends up overplaying it to the point where it’s  _ obvious  _ and the flags get raised anyways. 

But he’s not going to tell his dad this, despite the fact that if he’s in touch with her nurses and social worker anyways then he’ll probably find out, if he doesn’t already know, but Lucas isn’t going to be the one to share it with him. 

_ “Your opinion is your own, son, but as I’ve said before, it doesn’t concern you, and I’m sorry that things have to be this way but it’s just how they are,”  _ Why does he have to be so fucking aggravatingly calm? And use his “polite” voice. It’s impersonal. You’d think there was hardly any relation between them. 

Lucas decides he’s going to have to call Maye and talk to her if he wants any actual information, so he forces out a, “Right. Anyways, I have to go,” and mumbles some excuse before hanging up. He glances at the time and sees that it’s past 18h  _ and  _ a saturday, so she’s probably off work and he doesn’t want to call her in her free time, so he makes a mental note to call first thing monday morning. 

\--

\--

There’s a party that night that he has no choice but to go to. It’s no different than the rest of the ones he’s attended, only this time, he’s there  _ with  _ Elliot instead of there to stalk him. Glow up. 

For some reason, no matter whose house he’s at, whose party he’s at, whether he knows the person or not, he and his friends  _ always  _ claim the kitchen area for themselves and make that their home base for the evening. It's where they meet back up, it's where they go when they're bored, if they're not out dancing or mingling with girls then they're there. And they don't even come to the party with the intention of seeking out the kitchen, they just somehow all migrate there. 

And that's where Lucas finds himself - standing against the counter, chatting to the boys and waiting on Elliot to come back with some weed. Basile’s hackling him about whether or not it's okay for him to try to hook up with Chloe and Lucas doesn't know how many times he needs to reiterate that he  _ doesn't care.  _ Yann butts in and tells them that if  _ anyone's _ making a move on Chloe then it's going to be him because he’s the only one who actually stands a chance. Lucas can't help but to agree with him. 

“Hey how likely do you guys think I am to score with Ingrid?” Arthur asks curiously, watching her dance with her friends. 

“Not at all.” 

“Zero chance.” 

“Impossible.” 

They all reply at the same time and Arthur looks genuinely hurt by their responses, making them all bust out laughing. Lucas puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Sorry, dude,” he says, biting back a smile. 

He feels his phone buzz and when he looks at it he rolls his eyes, immediately stuffing it back in his pocket with a sigh. 

**_Dad_ **

_ It was nice talking to you today, son. Maybe we can grab a bite some time and catch up _

“Who’s that?” Yann questions, a sudden seriousness behind his eyes. 

“My dad,” 

The guys all know a little about his family situation. They know his mom isn't well and his dad's an asshole, and they've been friends with him long enough and have witnessed enough tolls that the bullshit with his family have taken on him to know that he doesn't have a great relationship with his father at all. They've never asked about it, and Lucas is glad because he doesn't ever feel like explaining it to them, and Yann’s the only one who knows the actual full story and details about everything. Well, besides Manon.

“What's going on with your dad?” Arthur asks, ending his conversation with Basile about God knows what in favor of joining Lucas and Yann’s. 

It's not a topic he’s too terribly keen on discussing right now, so he shrugs and says, “Just being a dick again,” Yann makes an understanding face and Basile inquires if there's something going on right now with Lucas’ family. “Just the same old shit,” 

“You know,” Basile steps closer after draining his beer, “You can always talk to us more about this if you want. We’re always going to be here for you, Lulu, to the upmost.”

Lucas smiles fondly at his friend as Yann flicks the guy's neck, “It’s  _ ut _ most,” 

“Who?” 

“ _ Ut _ most,” Arthur clarifies. “ _ Ut. _ Not up,” 

Basile looks extremely confused, “What's an ut?” 

Everyone rolls their eyes at him but Lucas only does so out of pure love. His friends are great, no matter how many brain cells they  _ don't  _ have. “While you guys sit here and argue about this,” he sets his beer down on the counter with a clink, “I’m going to go find my boyfriend,” he salutes them all and then braves the crowd. It doesn't take long for him to find Elliot sitting on the couch with Sofiane, talking deeply about something and Lucas wonders for a second if he should not join them, thinking it might be rude, but then he decides to anyways. 

As he steps closer Elliot looks his direction, finding his eyes instantly like they're fucking magnets. They can find each other across a room no matter how many people are in there, no matter what’s going on - it's their specialty, and Lucas is quite proud of it. 

The older boys squeals when he sees him, jumping out of his seat, “Lucas!” He announces excitedly, planting a face crushing kiss to his lips. “Hi, baby,” he whispers against his mouth. “Come sit with me,” Lucas doesn't get much of a choice before he’s being pulled down into Elliot’s lap, facing outward and he throws an arm over Elliot’s shoulders. 

Lucas could tell from the second he looked at him that the weed he sent his boyfriend off to find is most likely half smokin by now, if not all the way. Sometimes it's hard to tell when you look at Elliot because his eyes are already so glassy and wrinkly all the time anyways, but how affectionate he’s being right now is a dead giveaway. He’s very handsy when he’s high. And it’s not really that big of a difference than the way he acts when it’s just the two of them, in private, or when they’re with their friends, but they’re in public currently and Elliot’s got a hand up Lucas’ shirt, rubbing his back, and every time he reaches Lucas’ neck his entire back is exposed and he can feel like air and — so yeah. 

“Sofiane and I were just talking about Imane,” he says, and then does what he thinks is a whisper but it’s  _ definitely not,  _ “he’s got small crush on her,” 

Lucas looks over to the boy in question and thinks he sees a light blush but it’s hard to tell what with the horrible lighting. “Oh, yeah?” he says, because he isn’t sure what else he’s supposed to. How do you talk to someone you barely know about their crush who just so happens to be one of your friends but you’re not comfortable talking about her when she’s not there?? 

Sofiane half shrugs, half nods. And Lucas is reminded of that time in biology when he saw a picture of Sofiane and Idriss pulled up on Imane’s phone, and he asked her who they were and she got a little weird on him so he dropped it.  _ Huh. Maybe she has a small crush as well.  _

“You should go talk to her!” Lucas suggests, because what harm can that do? And that’s not something he can get in trouble with her for, is it? “I think they’re somewhere outside,” at least, that’s the last place he saw them. 

“He’s too scared to,” Elliot offers, sending a teasing glance towards his friend. “I told him he should just text her and declare they’re already in a relationship, but…” he trails off, flipping his shoulders up in an  _ oh well.  _

“When has that ever worked on anyone?” Sofiane exasperates, laughing. 

Elliot gets a devilish grin as he leans forward to his friend. “Well I don’t know,” he states, “ask Lucas,” Sofiane turns his gaze to said boy, unbelieving, Lucas snorts, 

“ _ Barely, _ ” he jokes. “And only because it was Elliot. It fit his personality, and the more I got to know him, the more I could see him doing that. It just made sense for him. It doesn’t work for everyone, it has to match who you are,” 

“Exactly,” Sofiane agrees, “And I could never pull something like that off,” 

“ _ Of course _ you can!” Elliot insists, flailing the arm that isn’t up Lucas’ shirt and Sofiane has to duck, the loose limb almost hitting him in the face. 

Lucas chuckles at his boyfriend, wonders just how much he smoked and if he mixed any alcohol with it. “No, no, no,” he argues softly, “You have to do what feels right  _ for you.  _ Don’t be someone you’re not,” Sofiane nods, biting his lip pensively. “But the first step is to actually  _ do,  _ so you gotta make a move someway,” 

“You’re right, you’re right,” he says, standing up. “I’m doing it.” 

“ _ Yeah!”  _ Elliot yells, maybe a bit too loudly but who cares. He gives his friend an enthusiastic high five, Lucas doing the same before sending Sofiane off, Elliot calling to him what Lucas thinks was supposed to be either  _ “you got this,”  _ or,  _ “go get your girl,”  _ but his stoned mind apparently mixed his words and what came out was, “You got girl!” but he doesn’t even think Elliot noticed, so. 

“How high are you, anyways?” Lucas asks him, putting a hand on his face and moving his thumb below his eyes, swapping it back and forth. 

Elliot slips his eyes closed, leaning into the touch, “Not very,” he lies before breaking into a giggle. “Okay,” he admits, eyes still shut, “a little,” 

Lucas smiles lovingly even though the older boy doesn’t see it, and starts playing with his hair. “Hey!” Elliot gasps out of nowhere, a mischievous glint behind his irises when he finally opens them, “Let’s dance,” 

Fuck, Lucas worried about this. He’s the worst dancer in the history of dancing. Like, he sucks. Worse than J.D from  _ Scrubs.  _ “Or we could stay here,” he counters sweetly, fluttering his eyelashes because  _ no one  _ can say no to that. 

Except Elliot, apparently.  _ “ _ Nope,” he grins widely, popping the p, and then he stands up with Lucas on his lap and sets him safely on the ground. “Come on,” 

“But—“ Lucas whines, pouty face, and Elliot is showing absolutely no mercy, pulling the smaller boy into the horde of drunken and sweaty teens. There are so many people around, so many different faces. Some he recognizes, some he doesn’t. He sees the girls a little ways away from him and Emma sloppily waves at him as she continues to imbibe copious amounts of alcohol. 

Elliot puts his hands on Lucas’ hips, swaying them back and forth as they dance to the music. Lucas feels weird, shy, and he doesn’t know how to dance so he always just stands there awkwardly until the girls or someone else takes pity on him and helps him out. “Hey, no worries,” Elliot assures him as he tugs their bodies together, lined up from head to toe. “Just follow me,” 

He starts guiding Lucas’ hips where he wants them to go, moves him along with his own until they’re in rhythm with each other and Lucas puts a hand on the back of Elliot’s neck. 

“See?” The taller boy asks, “Not so bad, is it?” And Lucas supposes not. He’s having enough fun, and anytime where he can be close to Elliot like this he’ll take. His boyfriend winks at him knowingly and Lucas blushes. He feels himself getting turned around, his back pressed to Elliot’s chest. There’s hot air on the nape of his neck, chills running down his spine and his breath hitches as fingers skim to his stomach, slipping under the hem of his shirt and his head falls back to Elliot’s neck. 

They’re dangerously close to  _ grinding  _ right now, and ew, Lucas thinks, grimacing just thinking about how he’s usually the one having to watch gross couples doing this but he finds he doesn’t particularly care at this moment. Surprising, he knows. 

The front of Elliot’s body brushes against Lucas’ ass before they’re slotted together, the perfect fit. “This okay?” Elliot speaks into his ear, and Lucas can only turn his head slightly until he sees his boyfriend’s face, he nods. 

Elliot kisses him like that, it’s an awkward angle but neither of them mind as they continue to sway and he pressed further into Lucas. His skin heats with each touch and soon their hands are  _ everywhere.  _ In each other's hair, on their necks, their chests, their backs. At some point Lucas shifted back around to fist Elliot’s shirt and tug needily, clinging to him as Elliot's hands rested on his ass and pushed until their groins were a solid support for the other. 

“Get a room,” someone yells as they walk past them and it sounds suspiciously like Yann. Lucas turns to look at him, earning a wink from his friend, who’s heading towards the balcony followed by the other two dumbasses. 

“Where you guys going?” 

Yann holds up a joint, “Found someone else since our other guy apparently fell through,” he smirks at Elliot, who bashfully bows his head and mumbles, “Sorry,” Yann shakes his own, laughing, “You guys want some?” 

The couple trail behind the guys as they make their ways outside. Sofiane is still out there talking to Imane, and they’re both laughing and standing rather close so it seems to be going okay. The girls haved moved out there as well, in the corner all standing in a circle, having their own chats and joking around, collectively sneaking peeks at the boy and girl, whispering teases. Lucas doesn’t know how much time the girls have all spent with the two of them, but in the past month every interaction he’s had with them it’s been painfully obvious the attraction they hold for each other. You’d have to be blind not to see it. 

All of the boys go to the other side of the balcony, gathering around in some type of  _ puff puff pass  _ formation. 

“Did you guys see the new girl?” Basile asks as he lights the joint. “I think I can get in with her,” There’s a chorus of groans and each one of them rolls their eyes. 

“Baz--” Yann starts, ready to burst his bubble and tell him to just give up already, no girl likes that amount of desperate, but Arthur stops him, shaking his hand dismissively and silently telling him there’s no point - nothing they say is going to make a difference. 

“What about the new girl?"

“Oh, dude, super cute. Uh, blonde hair, really long, I don’t know where she came from,” 

Lucas isn’t really interested, zoning out on what they’re saying when the smoke gets passed to him. Someone asks what her name is, and then Basile says it’s something like Sarah, or Sam or similar to that, Lucas doesn’t care. He didn’t see a new girl, though there’s still a good bit of people at their school that he doesn’t know and has never paid enough attention to to tell whether or not someone is new or has been there for as long as he has. 

“I think you should go for it,” Elliot says, and it surprises everyone, including Lucas, who looks over at him with the joint hanging out of his mouth. Elliot nods to him, “Take desperate to a new level,” 

“Yeah?” Basile asks cautiously, like he isn’t sure if he should trust the older boy or not. 

“Yeah, why not? Just be yourself,” he takes the jay from Lucas, puts it up to his mouth and Lucas has to look away before he gets himself in another situation where he can’t stop staring at Elliot’s mouth when he smokes and then ends up popping a hard on. It would not be the first time. Nor would it be the first time it happens when they’re with friends. 

“Hey, Elliot,” Basile says thoughtfully, “You’re pretty cool,” Arthur snorts next to him and Lucas closes his eyes in amused disappointment. It’s been an entire month. 

“You’re just now realizing that?” Arthur asks him, pulling a bag of sunflower seeds from his pockets and tossing a few in his mouth. 

“Well, no, but to be honest I was a bit weary about you hanging out with us in the beginning,” 

“Wary,” Yann corrects quietly, and Basile barely bats an eye. 

Basile continues, “I mean, you’re older, and you look like  _ that  _ and I thought no way this was going to be good for us. You’d still all of our chicks!” 

“What chicks?” Lucas asks, glancing over at Elliot who’s just watching Basile with a grin, curious to see where he’s going with this. 

Arthur hits Baz in the arm, “Dude, if anything he would help us,” 

“How so?” 

“Uh, because look at him? He  _ attracts  _ girls and _we’re_ the guys hanging out with him,” 

It takes Basile a moment to think about it and you can actually see the light bulb going off over his head. Again, Lucas wants to face plant into his hands. He can’t believe these idiots are his friends. 

“Well, glad my presence is being used for something then,” Elliot teases, and Lucas laughs, catching his eye in apology and Elliot responds in a  _ no worries  _ manner, but Lucas still slips an arm behind his back and around his waist and Elliot leans into it. 

The balcony door slides open and Lucas can see Manon disappearing behind it, and then it’s not long before Daphne's pulling him over to the girls’ side to talk about the brunettes upcoming birthday. 

“We can hold it at the flat,” Lucas suggests, because knowing Daphne she’s probably already discussed this with Mika and there’s no way he would disagree to that. His two favorite things - Manon and parties. “We still have a month anyways, why are you guys worried about this now?” 

“Planning, Lucas!” Daphne exasperates. 

Alexia offers, in a more sane tone, “We just want to make sure that we have everything we’re going to need,” 

“Okay, what do you want me to do?” 

“We just need you to help get things in order at the flat. You’ll be the one to keep her away and bring her back at the right time, and we’ll just need to double check with you for different things if we can’t get in touch with Mika.” Seems like an easy enough job, so he agrees, but he still gets the impression that that isn’t all. He raises a questioning eyebrow. 

“We were also hoping you would help us play matchmaker..” 

“No.” Is his immediate answer because  _ definitely not.  _ He’s no good fiddling in other people’s relationships. 

“ _ Please,  _ Lucas, all you have to do is--” 

“Daphy, no.” She laces her fingers in front of her face and summons her best puppy dog eyes. She doesn’t even have to say anything. He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly, “Who?” he deadpans. She jumps up and down, clapping her hands and squealing, crushing him in a hug. 

“We’ve noticed that she likes to look at Idriss,” the blonde states, and Emma pops up behind her with, “And Idriss likes to look at her,” 

Lucas squints his eyes. “Idriss?” he draws, and then glances behind him to Imane, who's still very heavy in conversation with Sofiane. “You have the perfect person for that right there,” 

“She won’t do it! We’ve already asked. You’re friends with him now, and you can ask Elliot to help if you want since they’re like best friends and all, but we just know that neither of them are going to make a move first so they need a little nudging,” 

He huffs a breath, relenting, “I’ll mention it  _ once  _ and that’s it,” 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he’s wrapped in another hug that he acts like he’s bothered by but the truth is he always welcomes hugs from Daphy. “Okay, she’s back, shh, go away,” she pushes him gently and he can’t help but to chuckle at the abrupt change. He nods at Manon as she walks by and she smiles at him warmly. His friends, he sighs fondly, walking back over to the guys.  

Before Elliot, when Lucas would hang out with his friends, he felt like he was losing brain cells as the minutes passed. Yann was a slight exception because sometimes it seemed like he has at least one, or maybe even a couple, but then there are times when Lucas  _ seriously doubts it.  _ And that’s not to say that Lucas himself doesn’t have his own moments where the amount is questionable, but he’s gotten better. 

Now with Elliot, Lucas feels like the guy holds the brain cells for all of them. He’s the only one with common sense and who actually pays attention to shit and thinks about shit that isn’t sleeping with girls and getting fucked up for the night like the rest of the guys. 

Which is why, when Lucas rejoins them and he sees Elliot leaning over the balcony railing, taking turns with Arthur spitting sunflower seeds at the people below them and trying to see who they can hit, Lucas takes about 3 seconds to  _ maybe  _ question his relationship with the other dude, before being hit full force with this overwhelming sense of  _ love.  _ It just comes straight at him, no warnings, no mercy. Just in the blink of an eye. 

And when Elliot apparently hits someone and scores, and then cheers and high fives Arthur like it’s his greatest accomplishment out of anything ever, Lucas can’t even deny that that’s what he feels. He doesn’t doubt it, doesn’t try to push it away and out of his mind, he accepts it. He knows. 

He’s in love with Elliot fucking Demaury and  _ doesn’t even care.  _

  
  


They all stay outside for about half an hour after that until Elliot yawns about two different times and Lucas quietly asks him, “Are you getting ready to go?” and he nods tiredly, another yawn making its way out. No one looks good when they yawn but Elliot does. He looks adorable and it makes Lucas just want to smush his face together and squeeze and squeeze and squeeze because he’s just so  _ fucking  _ cute. 

“I think we’re going to head out,” Lucas announces to his friends, and they all nod in agreement, standing up to hug the boys goodbye and wishing them a safe commute home. When they’ve made their way through the flood of bodies occupying the entirety of the inside of the house, they travel the short way home. Whoever’s house they’re at is closer to Elliot’s than it is Lucas', which is a blessing because they were already planning on staying in the formers tonight anyways. 

Hand in hand, they saunter down the streets of Paris. The temperature outside couldn’t be more perfect - not too hot, not too cold, the perfect mix of breeze and humidity. 

Elliot takes out a cigarette, offering one to Lucas like he always does, and, like always, Lucas declines. But also like always, after the taller boy lights it and takes a few hits, Lucas steals it out of his mouth for himself and Elliot smirks. “Thief,” 

“Am not,” Lucas counters, a sly grin as he bats his eyelashes. 

“Are too,” 

“How?” 

Elliot stops walking and considers Lucas seriously, inhaling and exhaling a couple of times before admitting dramatically, “Well you stole my heart, didn’t you?” And Lucas isn’t able to stop the laugh that forces its way out of him. 

“Shut up,” he pushes him, “Fucking cheesy,” he turns to start walking again and Elliot grabs his arm and pulls him back, their bodies slamming into each other like he loves for them to do. He snakes his arms behind the shorter boys’ back, holding him tightly. 

“You think I’m joking,” he murmurs, rubbing their noses together. 

_ I know you’re not joking,  _ Lucas thinks, and that’s the thing. It was so easy for him to accept the freight train that he was hit with earlier because he had no fears, no uncertainties that Elliot felt the same way about him. 

With his hand on Elliot’s neck, he leans up to kiss him, slow and steady, no rush. Their mouths twist together, lips spit slick. “I know,” he confesses when they break apart, and he takes Elliot’s hand as they turn back down the street. 

  
  


When they get back to Elliot’s they waste no time in taking each other to bed. Stripping their clothes, kissing as much of the others skin as they can. Moving together languidly, in unison, mumbling sweet nothings and encouragements into each other’s ears. It’s passionate and intimate and even though they don’t go all the way, even though there’s no penetration, there isn’t a thing Lucas would ever want to change about it. 

Afterwards they lay naked, wrapped in the other’s limbs, Lucas’ head pillowed on Elliot’s chest as the older boy plays with his hair softly, absentmindedly. 

“Elliot?” Lucas whispers after several moments of silence, just listening to the sounds of their breathing and their heartbeats. 

“Hmm?” 

“Thank you,” he says,  _ for everything.  _

He feels Elliot smile more than anything, feels his lips spread from where they’re pressed into the top of Lucas’ head. “Ditto,” is the last thing uttered before both of them fall asleep, sated and content. 

\--

\--

When Lucas wakes in the morning it’s to any empty bed. He rolls over, reaches for his phone on the nightstand but soon finds out that it’s laying with him on the mattress. There’s a small amount of messages from the boys, one from Daphne, one from his father, and a couple from his mom. 

**_Dad_ **

_ The worse your mother’s condition gets, I pray that it doesn’t discourage you from continuing to visit her. Her mental health is unwell, Lucas, you don’t know how much longer you’re going to get with her still present.  _

Lucas ignores it, rolls his eyes and flicks his dad off inside his head. He fucking knows she’s mentally ill, he doesn’t need to be told that. 

**_Mama_ **

_ Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other just as in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:31-32 _

_ I’m sorry about what happened earlier, son, I wasn’t feeling my best. I understand the anger you hold towards your father, but it’s important we show forgiveness if we want the Lord to forgive us as well. Your father is trying to make amends for the things he’s done in his past, it’s only fair that you recognize that and accept it. Jesus has plans for us all, Lucas, you just have to put your faith in him.  _

He deletes those as well. He put his faith in Jesus once before and it turned to shit. 

He yawns, tossing his phone to the side and standing up. He can’t find his underwear so he sifts through Elliot’s drawers until he finds a pair of sweats and slips them on before making his way into the main room. The smell of fresh coffee is enough to wake him a bit more, but when he gets to the end of the hallway he stops short. Elliot’s there, yes, sitting on the piano bench talking to someone, Lucas can’t see who, but he looks tense, unhappy. He steps out further and sees two strangers perched on the couch and that’s when his boyfriend finally notices him. 

“Lucas,” he says softly, cheery, reaching a hand out, “Come here,” The younger boy follows suit, uncomfortable about the fact that the man and woman who are basically gawking at him right now with wide, uneasy eyes are probably, most likely Elliot’s parents and Lucas is damn near fucking half naked. “This is Lucas, I’ve been telling you about him,”

“Hello,” he greets hesitantly, smiling politely as Elliot pulls him down next to him. 

“These are my parents,” Elliot smiles at him reassuringly but it’s not doing much help to sooth Lucas. The two still look extremely... _ upset,  _ would probably be the best way to describe it. To be fair, it’s not the best circumstances to meet for the first time right now. 

They both give a brief, and not necessarily  _ curt _ , per se, but certainly not as friendly a greeting as it could have been. After a few moments of awkward rigidness in the air, Lucas can tell when he’s overstayed his welcome. 

“Um, I should go,” he stands up, forcing a tight smile when he looks at his boyfriend, who seems like he’s about to protest so Lucas insists, “You catch up with your parents, okay?” He swivels around back down the hall, gathering as much of his belongings as he can find, and then ambles out more decently dressed when he’s finished. Elliot walks him to the door, asks if he’s sure he wants to go. “Yes, it’s okay. Call me later, okay?” 

“Alright,” Elliot promises brightly and pulls him into a kiss, one that’s maybe a bit less than tasteful for their current audience but the older boy doesn’t seem to notice. 

"Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Demaury," and Lucas slips out the door, making a hasty exit back to his own flat. 

He doesn’t hear from Elliot for the rest of the day, which he isn’t much worried about, but then he doesn’t hear from him Sunday, or Monday, either, and he’s not at school. Lucas texts, calls, messages, but still leaves enough space to where it’s not technically “blowing his phone up” but is definitely getting the memo across that he’s worried and Elliot should call ASAP just to let him know he isn’t dead or anything. 

The last text he sent was earlier Wednesday afternoon, just telling the boy to call when he gets the chance, Lucas misses him. And on Wednesday night when he’s sitting in his living room floor with Imane, studying for their biology exam, his phone vibrates. 

**_srodulv_ **

_ I’m okay, but I think I need a little time. Nothing to do with you really but things are moving too fast for me and I think it would be best if we just took a break for now. Sorry. _

......

Oh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so like for Sofiane I just imagine him to be the same in this, but also like, a little more sillier, you know?
> 
>  
> 
> haha.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song - Pretend Love, the avett brothers. 
> 
> haha

_ Bang.  _

_ Bang.  _

_ Bang.  _

3 in a row. He beats on the harsh wood, hand balled into a fist and he takes no ease, gearing up for a fourth one when the barrier breaks, door opens and there’s Elliot. His gaze is fixed on the floor, won’t meet Lucas’ eyes for the life of him and Lucas glares expectantly. “Are you fucking serious?” Nothing. 

5 days. It’s been five days since he sent that message and then went completely awol. Didn’t respond to Lucas’ texts, didn’t answer his phone calls, didn’t show up to school. Five fucking days ago he dropped whatever the fuck bombshell that was and then just fucking ditched. 

Lucas was confused at first, of course, thought maybe Elliot was just going through some things, needed some time to sort it all out. It was fine. Lucas was willing to do whatever. Then a day passed, and another, and another and another and another and Lucas went from confusion, to worry, and then straight to anger. He’s hurt, he knows he is but he just hasn’t allowed himself to feel it yet. Doesn’t think it’s going to do any good. Anger is motivating. Anger gave him the courage to get up off his ass and do something about this shit himself. 

And that’s where he finds himself now. Standing in front of Elliot’s apartment door, waiting on the damn decency to be looked at in his fucking eyes. “ _ Elliot. _ ” He demands, “ _ Look  _ at me.” A few beats pass before Lucas can finally see his face; the dark circles under his eyes, the paleness of his cheeks, the redness that shapes his waterline. It’s horrible, he looks awful, and Lucas almost gives in, breaks, his wall on the near verge of diminishing right there and he just barely keeps it up, holding everything back. 

“What are you doing here, Lucas?” His voice sounds as bad as he looks. Deep, raspy, like he hasn’t had a sip of fluid in days, just waking up from a week long nap, except his image says different - hasn’t had a wink of rest. It takes every ounce of Lucas’ willpower to keep his feet planted on the ground where he stands, to keep his arms tied to his sides. His hands ache to reach out, pull Elliot down to him and just hold him, tell him it’s okay, he’s forgiven, whatever this was it’s completely forgotten - never happened. But he doesn’t. And as soon as the words register to him, as soon as it’s clear to Lucas what he just heard, he back pedals, erases anything inside of him that resembles sympathy and he’s back to just feeling anger. 

“I want to know what the hell is going on,” he clenches his fist, shoving it into his pocket. “Where have you been?” 

“I told you. I need time,” 

He can’t even raise his voice. He doesn’t sound upset, he doesn’t sound mad, he’s completely monotone. There’s no emotion, there’s no feelings. Just -- disinterest. He doesn’t even sound sorry. 

“No,” is all Lucas says, pushing the door open and footing past the other boy into the apartment. A quick glance around the place tells him it’s empty. “I want an actual explanation, Elliot. You can’t just break up with me over text and then disappear. I haven’t talked to you in over a week.” 

Elliot crosses his arms over his chest, hunches in on himself and is back to avoiding eye contact. “Lucas, please,” he murmurs quietly, brokenly. 

“Please what?” Lucas takes a step closer, and in a softer tone he pleads, “Just talk to me,” this time he does allow himself to bring a hand up to Elliot’s cheek, a grounding touch for the both of them, “Baby,” he whispers, " _Elliot,_ " and for a second he leans into his palm and Lucas can hear a breath hitch, can see a single tear run down his face, but then the other boy is turning his head, pulling away and stepping to the other side of the room. 

“I can’t do this,” he stares out the window, back facing Lucas. 

“Do what?” 

“ _ This! _ ” Elliot yells, and Lucas flinches at the unexpected outburst. Elliot finally turns around, his face blank, nothing to it. He takes a few breaths and by the time he speaks again it’s weighty, impassive. “I don’t want to be with you anymore,” he says, eyes cold and untelling as he connects them with Lucas’, “I-- I don’t feel for you what you feel for me and it’s better to end this now before I lead you on anymore and you get hurt,” 

_ Too late.  _ “Bullshit,” 

“Lucas--” 

“That’s not true and you know it.” He takes a step forward but the other guy moves away again. “If you just tell me what happened, we can get through it, we’ll fix it,” he tries not to sound desperate, tries not to beg and make a fool out of himself but he doesn’t know what else to do. “Elliot--” 

“I don’t want to, Lucas! I don’t care! There’s nothing to fix because there’s nothing  _ here.  _ If you can’t see that then I don’t know what to tell you, but I’m not going to continue to act like I care about you when I don’t,” 

Dismissal. Rejection. A kick in the fucking teeth. 

Lucas stares at him, feels the lump forming in his throat, the bile rising. He needs to get out of here. He needs to leave quick or else he’s going to throw up everything that sits in his stomach and more. “You’re an asshole,” he spits harshly, so low it’s almost inaudible and there’s no shift in Elliot’s face that gives away if he heard or not, but Lucas is sure that he does. Positive. 

He swivels around, stomps to the door and slams it shut . He doesn’t give himself a moment to stop and calm down, breath a little, he just rushes down the stairs, outside, and makes it all the way to the corner of the street before he retches, emptying out his insides until it’s just spit and acid and then there’s nothing left. Clutching onto the wall for support, dry heaving. It’s disgusting and it smells horrible, tastes even worse but Lucas can’t force himself to move. His legs are stuck, jelly-filled. He musters enough strength to move to the side, away from the vomit and he falls to his knees, exhausted, weak.

\--

\--

He doesn’t know how he made it back home. Doesn’t know what time it is but it’s after sunset. He has no idea how long he was squat on the side of the street, no idea how long he was crouched into a ball, tears spilling from his eyes. Eventually it started raining and he pulled himself up, hobbled the rest of the way home soaking wet. Luckily it washed the smell of puke off of him, washed away any evidence he had been crying. 

When he walks into his apartment it’s empty, and he can’t decide whether or not he’s thankful for that. He wants to be alone, wants to lock himself away and hide in shame for being such a fucking fool, but he also doesn’t. He wants his mom. His  _ mom  _ mom. He wants to wrap himself in her arms, wants her to kiss his head and tell him it’s okay, she’s there. 

But he can’t have that. So he strips of his clothes by the door, tosses them in the laundry basket when he gets to his room and then finds some clean duds before he heads to bathroom to shower. He needs to warm up, needs to rid himself of the day, and that’s exactly what he does. Stands in the shower with his head against the tile, his emotions, his thoughts, everything that’s happened today just runs down the drain, floating away. He feels better as soon as the spray hits him, but when he gets out there’s still this looming presence above him. A dark weight that sits upon his shoulders. It’s been a while since he last felt it, and it’s been even longer since he felt it  _ like this.  _

It’s such a burden, the weight. It pushes him down, deeper and deeper into this huge black void and he has no way of getting out. No way of finding the light to guide him back to earth, guide him back to feeling himself again, guide him back to a place where he doesn’t feel nothing and everything all at once, all at the same time. All he wants is normalcy. All he wants is to not feel like  _ this  _ again. 

When he’s dressed he collapses into his bed, throws the covers over himself, over his head, and closes his eyes. He lays there for minutes, maybe hours, maybe days, before there’s a soft knock on his bedroom door. They don’t wait for a reply, sticking their head in, “Lucas?” It’s Manon.  _ Of course,  _ it’s Manon. He hears her step further in, tiptoe over to him and then the bed dips. “Is everything okay?” 

He doesn’t answer, but there’s a hand on his arm rubbing up and down, soothing. “Hey,” her voice is so soft, so calming, so relaxing. “Come out,” it’s a request, but one he knows he can’t deny. He lifts a hand and slowly drags the blanket from his face. The only light in the room is coming from the hallway, but it’s still enough for him to squint his eyes at the harshness of it. “What’s going on?” 

His mouth is dry and he attempts to lick his lips but it’s no help, not enough moisture. “Elliot broke up with me,” he surprises himself how steady his voice is, how it doesn’t sound as shattered as he feels. There are no cracks, no breaks. 

“Lucas,” Manon rasps, and he hates the pitying look in her eyes - has always hated it when people looked at him like that. She doesn’t ask why, doesn’t ask him to elaborate, only tsks her lips and moves to lay down, and he scoots over to give her more space. “Come here,” she murmurs, holding out her arm and it takes no time, no thought for him to rest his head on her chest, breathe in  _ her  _ comforting smells,  _ her  _ scent that feels like home, the air that emanates from her that’s welcoming and warm hearted,  _ safe.  _ He finds solace in her arms, always has.

It’s not his mother, but it works. 

\--

\--

The next morning he’s alone, vaguely remembers Manon leaving at some point during the night once she figured he was deep enough into slumber to leave. 

He doesn’t want to get up or get dressed or go to school or possibly face Elliot. He doesn’t want to have to explain this to their friends, or see Elliot’s friends and they all know how much of an idiot he is. 

Unfortunately, he can’t miss anymore days. 

He changes into sweats. Sweat _ shirt,  _ sweat _ pants.  _ If he’s going to feel like shit all day then he might as well be comfortable doing it. When he steps into the living room, everything seems normal. He doesn’t smell breakfast, he doesn’t hear chatter between his flatmates that they try desperately for him not to hear but he always ends up hearing anyways. In the kitchen there’s just Manon and she’s sitting at the table eating cereal, the box and an empty bowl set next to her. She smiles at him, greets him good morning, and she doesn’t eye him as he sits down. Doesn’t bite her lip worriedly while watching him. 

Lucas sighs. When someone in the flat is sad and the rest of them know it, they make breakfast. Crepes when it’s familial, and eggs and toast if it’s something about a crush or school, friends, maybe. It’s what they all do for each other. And if it’s bad, like, way bad and they’re absolutely devastated and no one knows how to fix it, no one knows what to do, then there’s cereal. Cereal means no pity. It means go about things like they’re normal. It means that the sad person doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to address it, doesn’t want anything to do with it, don’t bring it up. It means to keep things as normal as possible, like nothing has changed, like everything is fine. 

It’s contradictory if you think about it. Because if the cereals out, then that means there’s a  _ cause  _ for it. That means you’re  _ supposed  _ to act normal but you can’t because there’s cereal and if there’s cereal there’s a reason behind it, a reason big enough that it makes you act anything  _ other  _ than normal and so why would you want to in the first place?

And yet, when Manon returned from London without Charles, there was cereal. When Mika’s dad died, there was cereal. When Lucas' mom was in the hospital after the overdose, there was cereal. 

This morning, there’s cereal.

Lucas doesn’t know what to do with it. He never does. 

\--

\--

Yann knows immediately that something’s wrong. In fact, they all do. Baz and Arthur ask him about it, he tells them it’s nothing. He’s fine. They drop it. 

He’s not so lucky with Yann later, but at least they’re in the lunch line when the guy gets him alone so the conversation doesn't have to last for too long. “Dude,” Yann comes up next to him, “What’s up?” 

Lucas raises his eyebrow, trying for nonchalance, trying to be cool, but he knows he’s not doing great at it. “What do you mean?” Yann tilts his head, gives him a “no bullshitting” look. He lets out a breath, “Elliot dumped me,” 

It sucks even more each time he has to say it? You’d think it would be easier with every time you say it out loud but the longer it goes on, the longer this is a thing, the worse it gets. And he doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to have to explain it to people and see the apologetic looks on their faces, the sadness that they feel for him, the empathy. He doesn’t want any of it. Elliot broke up with him, said shitty things and it happened and there’s nothing he can do about it now. Worst things have happened to him, he’s fine. He’ll get over it.  

“Are you serious?” Yann asks, disbelief written all over his face. “What the hell? What happened?” 

Lucas shrugs, “Don’t know, guess he just changed his mind,” 

“Well why wasn’t he here all week?” 

“Uh..he didn’t say,” 

“Dude I’m sorry,” and that’s what he wanted to avoid. The pat on his back, the “aw, dude,” they just make him feel worse. And he gets both. “Are you like..okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m good,” If he says it enough maybe he’ll start to believe it himself. 

\--

\--

Elliot doesn’t come the rest of the week either. The news got around that they broke up, and the girls bombarded Lucas with questions on Wednesday, and over and over again he swore he’s okay, swore it isn’t that big of a deal. It was a couple of months. Barely anything. Hardly even an actual relationship. They really didn't even know each other that great.  

There’s another party on Friday that the guys insist Lucas goes to. They say he needs a rebound, say he needs to get his mind off things and let loose. Lucas tells them he doesn’t want to go, he’s never really liked parties, but they don’t take no for an answer. 

At 22h he’s in the hosts bathtub smoking a bong with his friends. The kitchen is occupied, apparently. 

They’ve been here for about an hour, in the bathroom for around half. Arthur’s on his right, Yann’s on his left, and Baz is hanging out in the corner above them. They’re all chatting about something ridiculous, Lucas is too busy listening to the bud burn as he lights it, inhales, and it’s a soothing sound for now. He watches the orange spread, the green turn black, and then he closes his eyes as he takes his thumb off the carburetor and the smoke comes in heavier. 

His head hits the tile behind him when he throws it back, exhaling. 

“Bro!” Basile exclaims, reading something on his phone, “Truth or Dare! In the living room!” 

Yann groans, “No one wants to play that, Baz,” as he accepts the bong from Lucas, who’s still uninterested in the conversation.

“ _ Please! _ ” He begs, and a tiny smile braces Lucas’ lips as he stares absently at the sink in front of him. “This could be my chance! Help me out,” 

For the first time in 2 weeks, Lucas is finally feeling  _ not  _ horrible. It’s the weed, he thinks, it helps. It doesn't necessarily make him forget, but it makes him feel a little lighter, makes his body vibrate, makes him feel like he’s floating. And  _ that  _ feels good.  _ That _ distracts him. He blinks, his eyelids heavy, “Okay,” he agrees, and everyone turns to him, irises wide. “Let’s go,” 

“YES!” Basile yells, pumping his arm in the air excitedly and he hops down from the ledge of the tub. 

“You're serious?” Yann asks him, raising a curious eyebrow. 

“Who cares, he agreed, come on,” 

Lucas shrugs, “What’s the harm?” 

 

The harm is that Basile is  _ too  _ drunk and  _ too  _ high to be able to choose anything other than dare, and he completes each challenge with an extreme amount of enthusiasm, only encouraging people to get more experimental with their ideas. 

It's mostly their group that's playing, the guys and girls, with the exception of a few new people who Lucas doesn't really know the names of but some of them look familiar. After the first couple of rounds he got bored quicker than he anticipated and ended up bowing out, moving instead to sit on the couch above Yann’s head and just watch from there. 

“Okay, Yann,” Daphne addresses, tossing her hair behind her shoulder. “Truth or dare.” 

“Dare,” 

She thinks about it, looking off to the side as she bites her lip, “I dare you…” and then she gets it, clapping her hands. “To do a handstand on top of the couch!” She’s happy about it, proud of herself, but everyone groans. Lucas lets out a small, fond chuckle. 

“That's all?” Yann questions, because Daphne's dishing outs are always the most innocent. He shakes his head, “Okay..” stands up, plants his arms on the cushions and throws himself. It doesn't work, and he just ends up toppling over into Lucas and they both burst into chortles. “One more time,” he tries again and is able to stay up for  _ about  _ 4 seconds before he falls over again, on top of Lucas again, this time spilling the beer that's in the shorter boys lap. 

“Fuck,” Lucas titters, lifting his shirt from his skin because that shit is cold. 

“Shit!” Yann apologizes, jumping up, and Lucas can’t even bring himself to care that he’s soaked with alcohol, he just continues to laugh because  _ this  _ is what he needs.  _ This  _ is what actually makes him feel better, being around everyone and acting like 12 year olds, goofing around and just having fun. “Come on, I’ll give you my sweatshirt,” Yann takes his hand, pulls him off the couch and walks him back to the bathroom. 

Lucas slips his shirt off when he gets there, running water over it in the sink and he’s still got tears in his eyes from laughing so much. “Clumsy ass,” he mutters jokingly, and Yann snorts from where he’s perched on the sink counter. 

“You try balancing on a fucking couch after 5 beers and a bowl, asshole,” it just makes Lucas start again, his body shaking as he tries to hold it in. It’s not even that funny, and he’s not that high anymore, but he needs this. He needs to laugh. He needs to let himself feel joy. “Hey,” 

At the serious tone, Lucas looks up, his hands still scrubbing his shirt but his attention is on his friend. 

“How are you?” 

It’s still not something he particularly enjoys being asked, or having to answer, but it’s always the same every time. “Good,” he responds, lips tilting up in what he’s mastered into a grin instead of a grimace. 

_ Fake it till you make it.  _

Yann nods, seemingly able to tell that Lucas doesn’t want to talk about this. “See anyone you’re interested in?” He smirks slyly, a devious hint to his voice. 

“No,” Lucas breathes a small laugh and looks back down at his shirt. He turns the water off, deeming the fabric clean enough and he twists it up, wrings it out. He’d rather not rebound tonight. There’s no way he’d even be able to. The thought of touching someone else in any way whatsoever makes his skin itch, his throat close up. 

“Ah, that’s okay,” Yann claps him on the shoulder, hopping off the sink, “Guys suck anyways,” and it earns a genuine smile from Lucas. He loves Yann, truly. 

His shirt is too wet to put back on so Yann hands over his own sweatshirt like he promised and Lucas slips it over his head, the thing swallowing him whole but it’s comfortable, roomy. And it smells like Yann and Lucas likes that. 

When they step out into the hallway Lucas stops short, sees Idriss and Elliot walking through the door, greeting people happily and Lucas’ heart fails to pump, stopping only to immediately start back up again, beating 10x faster than normal. The blood rushes to his ears and he can’t hear much, isn’t very aware of his surroundings either, until he feels Yann’s hand on his cheek, shaking him out of his stupore. “Lucas,  _ Lucas, _ ” 

“Yeah?” 

“Are you okay? Come on, let’s go back to everyone else,” 

He allows Yann to pull him further into the crowd to get to their destination, but his eyes never leave Elliot. Part of him is glad to that he’s alive and out, smiling and looking every bit as beautiful as he always does. Part of him is surprised to see him, hurt and pain surging through his body at the mere sight of him. And another part of him feels heaps upon heaps of anger,  _ vexation, _ at the fact that Elliot doesn’t show up to school for 2 weeks but comes to this fucking party that Lucas has no idea who’s even hosting. 

And then, from the other side of the room, through throngs of people, hundreds, thousands,  _ millions _ of people, their eyes meet. And Lucas freezes, his entire body tensing, shaking. 

And it’s over. Eye contact that lasted less than 2 seconds. Elliot looks away, face still void of emotion just like it was at his apartment. There was no remorse, no regret or shock or guilt or  _ longing.  _ There was nothing. Their gazes caught, Elliot broke it, and it was like they didn’t know each other. _Complete strangers._

And that hurts more than anything Elliot could ever say to him.

 

When they get back to their friends Imane and Manon have stepped away from the game as well, sitting on the sofa watching, and there’s a free spot for Lucas right next to the brunette. He plops down, Yann joining him on the arm, and before Manon can ask him anything, Lucas provides, “Elliot’s here,” 

She raises her eyebrows, “Did you talk to him?” Lucas shakes his head. 

“He didn’t even acknowledge me,” it hurts to admit, hurts to say out loud to someone, but it’s  _ Manon  _ and Manon is as much his person as Yann is. He doesn’t give her a chance to say anything, to utter his name all sad like  _ he knows  _ she’s going to, he just casts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer. “It’s whatever,” it’s not, but,  _ whatever.  _

About 15 minutes pass and Lucas forces himself to stop thinking about it, focusing back on his friends and their game. Basile doesn’t have a shirt on and is letting Alexia draw abs on his stomach. He flinches every now and then, complaining about it tickling too much and Alexia nudges him, “ _ Be still, _ ” she chastices. 

There’s loud laughter coming from somewhere around them, and Lucas feels Manon turn her head to see whoever it was, but he doesn’t move. It was Idriss, he’s sure of it, and he knows that if he looks there then he’ll see Elliot and he doesn’t want to see Elliot. 

But then he hears a girls laugh, and, out of sheer curiosity - or maybe jealousy, he doesn’t know - he looks. It’s the new girl, the one Basile was talking about at the last party. She’s got a hand on Elliot’s arm, giggling flirtily at something that he said, he smiles brightly at her, eyes wrinkling by the sides. He puts a hand on her waist, pulls her closer and whispers something in her ear. From Lucas’ position he can see her blushing, the pink highlighting her cheeks. 

As Elliot pulls away his eyes meet Lucas’ again, and there’s a longer pause here, a study, and Lucas has no idea what his own face is doing, what kind of secretes and feelings it’s spilling. All he knows is that when Elliot looks away it’s to grab the blonde, lug her against him and then he’s kissing her. And Lucas is sick. 

“I need to go,” he says, standing up on shaky feet. Manon stands too, puts a hand on his back. “I need to — I need to go,” He rushes away, pushing through the swarm of kids, not even caring about who he’s shoving aside, and Manon and Yann are right behind him, right there with him. 

 

And when Elliot looks back at the couch, Lucas is gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and thoughts are greatly appreciated!!


	12. Chapter 12

“Lucas?”

“ _ Lucas? _ ”

They were standing on the side of the street, just outside the party and Lucas felt like he couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t hyperventilating, wasn’t having a panic attack or anything like that, he just, he couldn’t  _ breathe.  _ There was this thing just sitting on his chest and it weighs  _ so fucking much _  and he —

“Hey,” Manon says, standing in front of him and taking his face into her hands, “Talk to me,”

“I — I don’t know,” he says, his eyes roaming for some place to land on but they can’t find a home, can’t just focus on one thing. He’s looking everywhere.

“Lucas,”

He’s okay. Everything is okay.

_ Talk. _

“Elliot doesn’t give a fuck about me,” he confesses, barely above a whisper. Shame,  _ embarrassment  _ are dripping in his words, evident in his tone.  _ But it’s okay,  _ he tells himself. These are his friends. It’s okay. “On Monday when I saw him, he told me it wasn’t real, he said he wasn’t going to pretend to care about me when he doesn’t,”

“What the fuck?” Yann exclaims angrily, and from the corner of his eye Lucas can see him grinding his teeth, puffing his chest out. He does it when he feels like he needs to defend, it’s his protect mode. Like when some guy tried grabbing Emma’s ass when they were together, or when one of the third years broke Arthur’s glasses, or when this dude shoved Lucas when he walked by and yelled some shitty insult about him being gay.

Lucas teases him about it and calls it his “Alpha Stance” because that’s basically what it is - standing up for his pack, fighting against threats. Yann says it’s unintentional, the stance. He says it “just happens.” Either way, Lucas is grateful for him.

It’s not necessary in this case, though.

“It’s alright,” Lucas tries, but he knows it’s no use.

“It’s not alright, Lucas! That’s a dick thing to say! Who the fuck—“ Yann shakes his head, cutting himself off. He takes a deep breath, reigning in his feelings. Calmer, but every bit as upset, he says, “He’s an asshole,”

_ He’s not, though, _  Lucas thinks. He’s anything  _ but  _ an asshole. He’s just-- Lucas doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how to justify this. 

“I just to want to go home,” he says, because he’s not going to stand out here and the same thing happen that did the other day. He won’t cry, he won’t freak out. He’s okay. This was an unfortunate event but it’s okay. Everything is okay.

\--

\--

The weekend isn’t as horrible as he was expecting. He spent it with Manon and Mika, watching movies the entire time, all three of them cuddled up on the couch. It was a nice distraction. They told him jokes, made him laugh, shared dumb shit they had done before he had moved in with them. And not once did he think about Elliot, or the kiss, or the stupid girl he shared it with even though it wasn't her fault.

He realized on Friday night that he and Elliot were done. Whatever hopes at repairing anything between them that Lucas had, was gone. Elliot proved that when he sucked some random fucking chicks tongue down his throat right after he made sure Lucas was watching.

Does it still sting? Yes. Is it easy to forget about? No. But Lucas can’t spend his time holding grudges and longing over someone who very clearly could give two shits about him. He’s still not interested in being involved with anyone else, he’s not interested in rebounding or “getting under someone to get over Elliot” but he won’t dwell on it. He can’t. It’s doing no good for him.

When he gets to school on Monday he is completely and 100% prepared to plaster a damn smile on his face and have not a single fucking worry in the world. He meets his friends in the front, they high five him, give him shit about being late, as always, and it’s good.

It’s good when he passes by Idriss and Sofiane in the hallways and they wave at him. It’s good when he passes by  _ the girl  _ in the hallways and she has no idea who he is. And it’s even good when he hears some random people chatting in the back of his class about how excited they are now that Elliot’s back on the market, no regards to Lucas sitting right in front of them.

It’s not good, however, when he sits down at lunch and talks to Basile, teases him about whatever girl he’s currently obsessing over, and his eyes move on their own damn accord when Elliot sits down at his own table. He’s a tall guy and it’s hard to miss, and somehow no matter how many people are in the room or what kind of chaos is happening, Lucas will  _ always always always  _ find Elliot’s incredibly attractive figure because  _ how can you not? _

He can’t even hate him. He wants to,  _ so much,  _ but he can’t. But at least he doesn’t allow himself to miss him, though - like the way his hair always manages to stick up no matter how many times Lucas tries to flatten it down. The way he smells right after he gets out of the shower, or even in general. The way he whispered sweet things into Lucas’ ears at night before they slept. -

And at least he doesn't allow hismself to worry about him. - like what happened when his parents got home? Or is he ready for the test that’s coming up this week that he had been stressing about? - 

And at least he doens't allow himself to reminisce about all the of the great moments they shared together - like when he tried to poison Lucas with his eggs one morning after cooking breakfast. Or when Lucas tried studying for his own test and Elliot refused to let him, instead wrapping around him like an octopus and kissing his neck. Or when they accidentally took the wrong bus one time and ended up in some random part of the city that neither of them had been to before but they stayed and explored and loved it so much they went back. -

_ No,  _ Lucas chastises himself,  _ stop. Don’t do this. _

He snaps back out of himself when Manon bumps into his shoulder, asking for his attention. “Hmm?”

“I asked if you had managed to get those  _ things  _ we talked about,” it was Daphne who needed him, talking to him in what she thought was “inconspicuous” but Lucas knows there’s no way that people don’t know what she’s talking about. She was hinting at the party for Manon, and yes, it took Lucas a minute to realize that’s what she was on about and he tilted his head, squinted his eyes in confusion, only for her eyes to bug out and she does some “You know” motion with her own head and it dawns on him.  _ Oh. _

“Uh-- not yet, sorry,” he says, looking at the table. “I will though, don’t worry,”

It looks like she’s about to scold him, tell him to get a move on with it but Imane puts a hand on her arm, gives her this look, and the blonde turns back to Lucas exclaiming, “Oh, it’s okay, just-- um, you know,  _ soon, _ ”

“Of course, Daphy,” he nods, smiling tightly. Yann’s gaze catches his and Lucas silently conveys to him that he’s alright.

Yann clears his throat, “Arthur how’s it going in French?”

“Oh dude I’m definitely failing that shit,” and everyone snorts, including Lucas.

The rest of lunch passes uneventfully, he wills himself not to look at Elliot’s table, and  _ it’s all good  _ until he goes to take his tray and when he turns around he runs straight into Idriss.

“Lucas!” The guy says happily, patting his shoulder, “What’s up, man?” He’s rubbing a hand on Lucas’ arm and the shorter boy side eyes it, confused, because this is  _ weird.  _ Idriss clears his throat, ripping his hand away, “Uh-- anyways, how are you?”

“Good,” Lucas smiles the best he can, unsure of how to act here before he thinks, fuck it, Idriss is his friend now too. “And you?”

“Good, good,” Idriss nods enthusiastically and Lucas still feels like he’s acting a bit funny but maybe it’s just because of the awkward circumstances. “Hey, um-- I just wanted to let you know I hope things aren’t like weird for us now, you know?”

“Yeah…” Lucas draws the word out, trailing off gawkily.

“I mean I know shit’s kinda on the rocks right now with you and Elliot and everything, but--”

Lucas shakes his head, cuts him off, “No I get it,” he voices, ignoring the  _ on the rocks  _ bit because it’s a fucking understatement and it makes him wonder what the hell Elliot told his friends. “Everything is cool,”

“Cool, bro. Cool.” And then they stand in silence, looking everywhere but at the other person. “Well--” he holds out his arms for a hug and Lucas is hesitant but doesn’t want to make this any more awkward than it already is and so he goes in, lets Idriss embrace him for a  _ good  _ 3 seconds and then give him some odd, clumsy pat on the back before Lucas decides it’s time to pull back. “Good seeing you, dude,” he waves, walking backwards a couple feet and then turning around, leaving Lucas utterly confused and wondering what the hell that was, unaware of Elliot watching the interaction the entire time.

\--

\--

On tuesday afternoon Lucas gets a phone call from his mother’s social worker.

_ “Hey, sweety,” _  she starts, and by the tone of her voice his stomach eases, heart slows down. Usually if  _ she’s  _ calling  _ him  _ then it’s because something’s wrong, something has happened that Lucas isn’t going to like. _  “I just wanted to check back in on you about your father.” _

“Uh, yes?” he asks, lying on his bed.

_ “So the change of guardianship is just about to be complete and I just wanted to make sure that you were being kept updated on anything regarding that,” _

He knows what’s going on. He’s been keeping up on it and that, mixed with this Elliot shit, mixed with his school work has been literally drowning him. “Of course, thank you. Maye? What-- um, can you tell me again what guardianship means, exactly?”

_ “Sure, honey. Just that he’ll get control over where she lives, um, any medical needs she might have. He’ll be the first contacted if anything goes wrong, or if there’s an issue with her in any way.”  _ Lucas nods along, aware of all of this already but just needing to hear it again. Make sure he isn’t missing anything.  _ “Um, oh! And he’ll be in charge of her finances, as well." _

“Finances?” That, she hadn’t mentioned before.

_ “Yes, her disability check and any other checks she may receive from the government will be sent to him instead of the home from now on.” _

“Meaning?”

_ “Meaning he’ll decide where that money goes and what to do with it.” _

Lucas sits up, his face paling, “I’m sorry?”

_ “Well since your mother is technically ruled unfit to care for herself it means she isn’t able to make those decisions on her own. The checks have been being sent to the facility since they currently have guardianship but once your father gains that then the control will be handed to him. Has he not spoken to you about this?” _

“Um, no. No, he hasn’t,” he admits quietly, closing his eyes. At first he had been worried that his dad might move his mom elsewhere, somewhere Lucas can’t see her, somewhere that she might be miserable again. Somewhere that doesn’t take as good care of her as this place does.

Lucas could never figure out how having control over where she’s placed would benefit his father. It didn’t make sense to him. What was he getting out of it? The satisfaction of knowing that he’s the boss now? He’s in charge? It didn’t surprise Lucas if that was the case but all of this is really starting to add up now. It’s coming together for him.

His father is a selfish bastard. He does nothing if it isn’t convenient for him, if it doesn’t avail him. Put him up just a bit higher. He’s manipulative, he knows how to make people think that he’s this amazing man who just wants to help out, just wants to be a good man in God’s eyes. But he’s not. He’s an asshole who only cares about himself and will do whatever he can to better himself in his  _ own _  eyes and use his religion as an excuse, as an out. He’s in no way above it and he’s proven that multiple times before. If only other people could see it and it wasn’t only Lucas.

_ “I’m sorry,”  _ Maye tells him,  _ “I thought you two had discussed this,” _

“No, it’s okay, Maye, thank you anyways. I really appreciate your help.”

_ “Anytime, sweetheart. And Lucas?” _

“Yes ma’am?”

_ “Your mother appreciates everything you’ve done for her. I know at times it’s often difficult to see her, and no one blames you if you can’t do it sometimes. She knows that you love her, and she loves you too. Don’t forget that.” _

He clears his throat, feels the tears swell in his eyes, “Yes ma’am,”

\--

\--

On wednesday he’s sitting in biology with Imane, she asks him if he has a spare pencil. “You mean, you don’t?” He teases her, laughing, “But you’re always so prepared for everything. This isn’t the end of the world, is it? Should I be worried?”

She shoves his side, smiling brightly even though trying not to, “Shut up, do you have one or not?”

“Sure, anything for my favorite biology partner,” he reaches into his bag, shuffling things around as she counters, “I’m your  _ only  _ biology partner,” and Lucas chuckles where he’s bent down. He checks one pocket, finds nothing, checks another and comes up with some old gum and a single rolling paper, and then tries for a third and finally there’s a pencil. A long with a folded up note that he’s 78% sure is not his. He grabs both, handing the utensil to Imane with a distracted, “Here you go,” before unfolding said note.

He recognizes who it’s from immediately, because there’s not a single soul that he knows that does shit like this except for one fucking person.

On one side it’s a hedgehog standing with his friends, tears running down his face, which, okay,  _ouch,_ Lucas thinks, and then a raccoon standing a few feet away watching him, sad look on him as well. And on the other side it’s the same hedgehog but this time he’s got a smile on his face and the raccoon is standing with him, an arm around him. Under it it’s written,

_ In another universe Elliot 67236 would be the one making you smile, not making you cry. _

“What’s that?”

Lucas shoots his head up, crumbling the paper away out of habit. “Uh--” he almost lies, say it’s nothing, but decides he doesn’t want to do that, and he shyly hands the paper over to his friend, avoiding eye contact.

Imane sighs after reading it, handing it back. “He’s never been great at communicating,”

“He communicated perfectly fine when he dumped me,” Lucas shoots back, the words out of his mouth before he even thinks about it.

“I’m sorry,” she replies, touching his hand with hers.

“It’s fine,” he bites his lip, staring at the dumb note. “I just don’t understand the point,”

Imane eyes Lucas, then the note, and back to Lucas. She contemplates for a couple of moments and then, “Sometimes we do things because we think it’s the right thing. We think we’re helping, protecting. We think that if we do this now then it might hurt, yes, but not as much as it would in the long run. We use consideration as an excuse, saying we were  _ just looking out for you _ , when the truth is we’re actually just terrified of what might happen if we don’t.” She pauses, and Lucas swallows. “But we forget that it’s not our place to make decisions for other people, and it may only make things worse by not letting them decide for themselves. It does more bad than good.”

He blinks at her, and he thinks he knows what she’s saying but he doesn’t really see how it applies here. “Okay..” he mutters, looking away because he's too much of a fucking wimp to hold her gaze.

“I just mean, we have to be patient with each other, Lucas, while we figure things out. Soon enough we’ll come to our senses.”

He doesn’t get a chance to ask her what she’s trying to say because the teacher comes in and begins class, but he wonders about it the entire time, coming back to the possibility of maybe she’s taking Elliot’s side, maybe this is her way of justifying what he’s doing. But then Lucas thinks, no, she must know something he doesn’t. She doesn’t choose sides, and she certainly doesn’t gloat about it if she does. This is  _ her  _ trying to tell him something, and he appreciates that she cares so much, he appreciates what she’s doing, but he doesn’t think he wants to listen right now. He doesn’t think he wants to reanalyze every possible reason that Elliot might have for doing this.

He’s been there, he’s done that. He should be past it. He  _ needs  _ to be past it.

Despite whatever the note had anything to do with. If anything, it pisses him off.

\--

\--

Thursday he goes with Yann and the boys to pick up cups and plates and some other decorations for Manon’s upcoming party.  He doesn’t have the first clue what kind of stuff to get but Arthur insists that he’s the perfect party planner and knows exactly what Manon would like.

“I don’t see how that’s possible,” Yann tells him, “Since you hardly know her,”

Arthur looks deeply offended, reeling his head back, mouth open. “I  _ love  _ Manon,” he argues dramatically, “Hare dare you,”

“Relax,” Lucas says, stepping between them and leading the way through the store to different isles, “I think I can figure it out,”

He doesn’t want anything too pink because Manon doesn’t really love the color, but he doesn’t want to get anything too dull, either. “Lulu,” Basile says, “What about these?” he holds up a bag of bright tie dye cups and matching napkins with it and Yann thankfully declines before Lucas has to.

They search for about 20 minutes and Lucas gives up. They’ve found sufficient decorations that aren’t too loud but also aren’t too boring, but as far as utensils go, he doesn’t want to do this anymore. They’re either too cheesy or too...frilly. Lucas is getting a headache thinking too much about this and he’s tired and he wants to go home and Arthur and Basile are having a sword fight with pool noodles that Lucas is trying  _ really hard  _ not to laugh at because he isn’t in a good mood but he can’t help it. His friends are idiots.

Yann comes from behind him, sidling up next to him. “You okay?” Lucas nods, humming. “Have you, uh-- heard anything from Elliot?”

“He left me a note,”

“A note?” And Lucas nods again. “What kind of note?”

He doesn’t want to tell him, because then he’d have to explain it to him, tell him about the parallel universes and Lucas has never told anyone else about that before, afraid they’d think it was too silly, or too ridiculous. “Um, I don’t really know,” he settles, “Just some random thing we used to joke about,”

Yann breathes deeply, almost growls, “The nerve on this guy,” Lucas doesn’t respond, deciding not to because he isn’t sure how.

“So, are you guys ready to go?”

\--

\--

When Lucas was 10 they had gone to church one sunday morning. It was him and his parents, they were in the middle of service and the pastor had said something, Lucas can’t remember what. Whatever it was, the guy was adamant about his feelings on it.

It’s all hazy to Lucas. Bits and pieces come back to him, even in his dreams, but he can never remember the entire story. He can recall his mom standing up, protesting, telling everyone in there that they were wrong and that they couldn’t possibly believe that that was correct. He can recall his mom crying she was so passionate about it, begging them to understand that it was  _ wrong. _  He can recall his father pulling both of them out of the church, Lucas and his mother both, and he was apologizing frantically, saying,  _ “I’m sorry, she’s not well, please forgive us,” _

He can recall the day after when his father came home, fuming, screaming at his mother that she had messed up.  _ “Good job,”  _ he had told her, _  “They asked us not to come back.” _

He can recall the next time he and his mother went there anyways to play the piano, her head resting on his shoulder as they both perched on the bench and Lucas’ fingers danced along the keyes. And then the pastor came in, asked her what they were doing there as they were no longer members of his church.  _ “Please leave, you’re not welcome here anymore. _ ” If they didn’t share the same beliefs as he and the rest of them, then they didn’t share anything with each other.

_ “15 years we put into this church!”  _ She fought, arguing,  _ “Don’t do this to us,” _

10 years old and it was Lucas who had to pull her out of there,  _ “It’s okay, mommy, we can go. Come on, it’s okay,” _

The church was her safe place. And they had ripped it out from underneath her. All because of what? A disagreement? Different views?

And Lucas can’t even remember what it was about.

His phone vibrates in his pocket as he walks through his apartment door. He takes it out, sees it’s some random number and ignores it. There’s a text from his mom, asking him if he’ll go to church with her on Sunday. He goes to the refrigerator and takes a beer out, twisting off the cap and draining about half of it in a couple large gulps. He plops down on the couch, throws his head into the cushion.

He’s been thinking about it a lot lately. He knows he can’t avoid it forever, knows that eventually he’ll have to man up and go. Even though the simple thought of it brings nothing but dread to his stomach, tugs on his heart strings.

He doesn’t have a good relationship with God. He used to, sure, but all that shit with his mom and the church happened and then he found out he was gay and now he just feels like, what’s the reason?

And maybe that’s part of the reason his relationship with his mom is so fucked up. As religious as she is, as faithful and close to God as she is, her son is gay. And she has no idea. Lucas has never told her, always afraid of her reaction. Always afraid it would trigger some episode for her and cause problems and he’d never be forgiven. What if she disowned him? What if she told him she didn’t love him anymore?

His dad knows, and his dad has told him multiple times not to say anything to her. She wouldn’t take it well.  _ “You know she is.”  _ he says. Eventually Lucas gave up on fighting about it.

He should tell her though, right? Maybe it would help him, help  _ them.  _ Maybe he would feel better about  _ something  _ and it would lift just a little bit of weight off of him. Just a bit.

He hears the front door open and soon enough Manon saunters in, a kind smile on her beautiful face. “Hi,” she says, joining him. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking,” she considers him and he adds, “About my mom,”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m going to join her for mass,” if anything it’s to please her, make her feel some joy before he drops a bomb and ruins everything. “Maybe not this week but-- soon,”

“I think that’s an amazing idea. It’ll be good for you,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> song - Hide, by rainbow kitten surprise 
> 
> this chapter i feel like was a bit light on Elliot but we'll get more next chapter. I'm also wanting to start focusing a bit more on lucas mending his relationship with his mother and then telling his dad to fuck off. 
> 
> i hope you all enjoyed it. let me know what you think in the comments! :))


	13. Chapter 13

Lucas goes to visit his mom after school on Monday and he decides to stop by the market on his way and pick up some of her favorite snacks. He’s been thinking a lot about going to church and when to tell her about him but the more he thinks about it the more he wants to get it over with, just go ahead and do it and not drag it out for any longer, not have to sit and anticipate all of the different ways it could go. It’s long overdue, he should have done it months ago. Years, even. For as long as he’s known himself. 

He lurches down the halls on uneasy feet. His stomach is in knots, his hands are sweaty. He pulls at the neck of his sweatshirt, letting some air in now that he’s suddenly sweaty, even with the cool breeze inside the building. 

It feels like it takes a lifetime to get to her room, and when he’s finally there he stops, contemplates turning around and leaving and no one will ever know that he was here. He could get away with it. Maybe today isn’t the day, maybe it’s tomorrow. Or next week. Or 3 months from now. Maybe he should wait to tell her until he  _ knows  _ that she’s doing better. Knows that she’s back on track with all of her things. 

His hand is on the rail lining the walls, his feet are crossed, just about to swivel around and carry himself out when one of the nurses comes down the hall, sees him and greets kindly, “Lucas! So nice to see you today,” 

He shrugs, walking towards her with a polite smile. “I had some free time,” he says easily, and she beams at him, shifting the handful of bandages in her arms.    


“Well I’m sure she would love that. She’s had a good today,” 

They chat for a couple more minutes about his mother, the nurse tells him that they were having a little bit of trouble with her taking her meds last week but it seems to not be an issue anymore for the time being, and then she rushes off, something about her needing to get the bandages where they belong. Lucas thanks her, waving at her as she goes. 

He takes a deep breath.  _ Okay _ , he can do this. He knocks lightly on the cracked door, pushing it a little further so he can peep his head in. “Mama?” She’s sitting at her table with the tv playing on a low volume, and from the looks of it it seems she’s coloring. She turns around when she hears his voice, and he steps over to her. “Hi,” he says as she peers at him, her lips slightly tilted up. 

“What are you doing here?” She questions in a soft voice, not unhappy to see him, just surprised. It stings him a little, a tiny stab in the heart with a knife made out of guilt. He’s such a shitty son. 

“Just wanted to come see you, I missed you. Is that okay?” 

She grins brightly, toothly, and scoots her chair over to the side to make room for him. “Of course, son, of course. Come on, pull up a chair.” The desk is hardly big enough for both of them to fit but Lucas squeezes in, makes it work. He talks to her, watches her as she goes about coloring her little drawing, and he even accepts when she offers if he’d like to color something as well. She recalls stories about things that have been happening there with her friends, little stuff that goes on with the nurses. She cracks up telling him a story about how the other night the nurse had leant over her to grab something and when she came back up she knocked her tea over, spilling all into his mom’s lap. “I had been asking them for a bath all day but they said I wasn’t scheduled for one until the next day, and then she spilt my tea all over me and I got one anyways!” She gets a kick out of telling it, just giggling and giggling and it makes Lucas laugh too, to see her like this. So happy, enjoying little things. “Bless her heart, I think it was her first day,” 

He spends about half an hour with her, smiling when she smiles, genuinely interested in hearing her tales. It’s when they’ve both quieted down, a couple moments of silence, the only noise coming from what goes on out in the hallway. “Listen, mama,” he starts, and she gazes into his eyes, so blue and deep like she’s reading his soul, reading everything about him. “There’s something that I need to tell you,” 

Setting down her crayon, she turns to face him, her expression serious and Lucas can tell that he’s got 100% of her attention. He doesn’t know if this makes it better or not. 

“I, um--” he licks his lips, breathing in and out,  _ inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale. You can do this.  _ He can do this. “I like boys the way I’m supposed to like girls,” he admit apprehensively, and there. Done. It's out and over with. Except the second it leaves his mouth he instantly regrets it, doesn’t know why he said it like she was a fucking five year old. She has rough days sometimes but she’s not a damn idiot. 

He clears his throat, looking away, “What I mean is, I’m gay,” and  _ fuck  _ does that feel better than he expected. Mika once told him that he was going to have to come out to people for the rest of his life, and it’s never been something he’s had an issue with - he’s never been ashamed of it, he’s never met someone and wanted to keep that fact about them and to himself. (Except with Chloe but that was because he was trying to avoid awkward situations.) But with his mom, it feels like he’s coming out for the first time again. Like not a single person in the world knows this and it’s his first time saying it out loud. First time admitting it to another actual human being. 

And she stares at him, her expression unreadable and for a moment he gets lost in how freeing it is to share it, and forgets that this could actually end badly. It could take a vicious turn and him end up leaving here without a mother. He sees tears swell in her eyes as she just looks at him, considering him, eyes roaming all over his face. She searches for something. Lucas can tell, but he doesn’t know what it is. “Say something,” he whispers, pleading, his voice cracking and the nerves are back. The nauseous feeling is back. The sweat is back. His heart beats a mile a minute, the blood pumps in his ears and sounds like a fucking drum circle. 

It shocks him when he feels a hand on his cheek, and he hadn’t even seen her lift her arm. He flinches, taken aback and then immediately leans into it. “My son,” she voices, just above a murmur, and Lucas closes his eyes, ready for rejection, ready to hear whatever disappointment she’s going to throw at him. But it never comes. 

“There will never come a day where I won’t love you with everything in me. Unconditionally.” 

_ Unconditionally.  _

He has to think about it. He has to absorb it and let it soak in and really know for sure that she said what he thinks she said. He didn’t mishear her, he didn’t imagine it. She said it. 

_ Unconditionally.  _

And then there’s this wall, this brick wall that he’s built and has been building since he was little, this brick wall that blocks out so many things that he doesn’t want to feel, doesn’t want to think about, and it just shatters. Crumbles to pieces right there. And he can feel it breaking, can feel every crack, every fallen piece, every speck of it. And behind that wall is a damn. And the damn breaks, and the water gushes out, no way of stopping it. Just a flood. A flood of emotions and feelings and thoughts and everything that he’s tried so hard to keep away because it was too much. All the guilt that he’s felt, all the resentment, all the anger and the fear and remorse. All of it. Just  _ spills.  _ And he’s hit all at once with it. Drowning him, swallowing him whole, he sinks to the bottom. 

And he can’t hold it in anymore. 

A river of tears, broken down sobs. It’s messy, it’s disgusting, it makes his head pound because there’s so much fucking pressure. He lets it all out, unable to keep it together, too weak. 

But then there’s a touch, a grounding touch that wraps around him and pulls him up. A life jacket, a raft. It lifts him, drags him out until his head is above water and he can breathe again,  _ finally,  _ and he realizes it’s his mother. His fucking mother. With her arms holding him tightly, securely, a comforting thing. A life saver. 

“I’m so sorry,” he cries, clutching onto her shirt, sobbing into her. “I’m so sorry,” 

For abandoning her as soon as he had the chance. For dropping her off here and just  _ leaving her,  _ moving on with the rest of his life  _ without her.  _ For not caring enough to just  _ be there  _ for her. He’s sorry for it all, for everything. 

“Mama I’m so sorry,” 

“Shh,” she hums, petting his hair, running a hand down his back. “It’s okay, Lucas, it’s okay,” and he holds on tightly, clinging to her with his entire life. “I forgive you, it’s okay,” 

_ I forgive you. It’s okay.  _

 

His eyes are swollen and his nose is stuffed, but he feels good. He feels lighter. He feels more complete now. His relationship with his mother has been weighing on him for years now and it’s finally  _ good.  _ He’s never felt closer to her, he’s never felt like nothing could come between them before. He feels like they’re invincible, the two of them. He feels  _ strong.  _

He feels like everything has finally clicked into place. 

\--

\--

On tuesday he finds another note, this time in his pocket. He’s surprised at first, then curious as to how it got there, and then he reads it. 

It’s two pictures of a raccoon holding up his phone, text messages on the screens. On one side he sends a text saying,  _ I’m sorry, I miss you.  _ and under it it reads,  _ Elliot 25367 gains the courage to apologize, and maybe Lucas 25367 accepts.  _ The second raccoon holds a phone with a blank screen, no texts, and underneath that one it reads,  _ Elliot 1 is too scared and misses his chance. But he’s still sorry.  _

Lucas stands at his locker, note in hand, and he looks up just as Elliot walks down the hall in his direction, mid conversation with Sofiane. Lucas watches him, stares him down with intent and, as if Elliot can feel his gaze, he looks up. His face falters, and Lucas can see him stutter on his words for a moment. Neither of them break it, and Lucas isn’t expecting the other boy to hold it for this long after everything that’s happened. 

Lucas purses his lips, his eyes hard, cold, and he brings the paper up to where Elliot can see it, gaze unwavering, and rips it. Right down the middle. And then lets it go, floating to the floor, and he walks away. 

If he were stronger, then he wouldn’t have waited until he was sure Elliot wasn’t there anymore, and then went back for it, picking it up and taking it with him to class so he can stitch it back up. 

\--

\--

When he’s in free period wednesday afternoon Alexia asks him to print some things out for her for some project she’s working on. He agrees, obviously, and finds himself in the library doing exactly that. There aren’t many students in there, and they’re all spread out studying, reading, playing at the computers, just doing their thing. He drums his fingers on the printer, humming quietly to himself as he waits for the papers to finish. 

He hears footsteps behind him but doesn’t turn around until he feels breath practically on the nape of his neck and someone clears their throat. Cologne. He smells the cologne and he freezes, his body tensing. 

“Can we talk?” 

It’s Elliot.  _ Of course  _ it’s Elliot. 

“I’m busy,” Lucas says curtly. 

“It won’t take that long,” 

Lucas is weak. He’s weak and he hates himself for it. He hates himself for how amazing it feels to hear Elliot’s voice, for how amazing it feels to just  _ smell  _ him again. Every time they’re together there’s just this magnetic pull between them, their bodies. Just nagging and nagging and nagging Lucas until he just  _ touches.  _ His skin itches for it, itches to be close, itches to be held, itches to be pressed against and lined up to where every inch of him is being invaded by Elliot. He’s  _ uncomfortable  _ without it. And it kills him. Because he knows that he shouldn’t still feel this way, but no matter how many times he tells himself he’s over Elliot, tells himself that he doesn’t need him, doesn’t deserve him, he knows that it isn’t true. 

He shouldn’t still want him. But he does. He shouldn’t still long for him. But he does. He shouldn’t still think about how in love he fell with him, but he does. 

And that’s why he closes his eyes, lets out a deep breath and relents, “Five minutes.” He grabs the papers and walks past the older boy, footing it right out of the library. There’s an empty classroom that Lucas knows they won’t be interrupted in and he goes there, leaning against one of the desks and waits for Elliot to say whatever he has to say to him. 

Elliot stands in the corner, clutches the strap of his book bag as he looks around nervously. “I shouldn’t have said it,” he admits, so low it barely makes it across the room to Lucas. 

Lucas is quiet, and he contemplates not saying anything, waiting for Elliot to continue but it doesn’t happen. It’s when Elliot finally looks up at him, makes eye contact with him for the first time since the hallway incident yesterday and Lucas can see how tired he looks right now, how it seems like a completely different person than the Elliot you see in the hallways, who’s always laughing and smiling brightly and looks happy and healthy. This person doesn’t look like that. This person looks miserable and exhausted and just totally shitty, and it should make Lucas happy to see how bad he’s doing, to see how rough a time he’s been having but it doesn’t. Instead it makes him hurt. He’ll always hate to see Elliot like this, no matter what situation they’re in. 

“What do you want me to say to that?” 

“I don’t know, I-- I planned everything that I wanted to say to you but-- it’s all just sort of blank right now,” And _c_ _ ool.  _ Lucas hops onto his feet, moving towards the door when Elliot snaps into focus. “W-wait, you’re leaving?” He sounds frantic, upset. Scared. 

“You wanted to talk and you’re not. And I have things I need to do,” he treads on,  _ needing  _ to get out of there before he does something he might regret and end up caving. 

“Lucas!” Elliot calls out, almost a yell but not quite, and the younger boy stops, his back facing his companion. “Please, can you just-- can you just hear me out?” 

“Why should I?” Lucas bites, swinging around, glaring. He shoots daggers into the person standing in front of him, the person who flinches at the tone of his voice and reels back. Elliot’s a tall guy. Huge, compared to some of the other people at their school, and his gigantic heart and incredibly bubbly personality only make him bigger. 

But right now? Right now he looks tiny. Smaller than Lucas. Everything about him just screams  _ afraid _ and  _ self hating _ and  _ undeserving of any form of love _ . And Lucas would know what this looks like because he’s had to face it in the mirror for the past year and a half. 

This isn’t the golden retriever  _ or _ the pitbull. This is a horrified little dog who’s been backed into a corner, beaten and neglected. 

But Lucas has to keep his composure. As much as his heart breaks at the mere sight of Elliot right now, the mask stays on or else he breaks and falls into the other boys’ arms, forgiving and begging for them to be okay. 

He sighs, just as exhausted. “What is it, Elliot?” But he’s not asking because he’s desperate for answers and the need to know what’s going on in the other’s head, but because he doesn’t want to drag this out anymore. If Elliot doesn’t want anything to do with him, then okay, leave him alone. He’s tired of getting notes, tired of getting mixed signals and having to decipher the meaning of everything. He just wants to be done with it if it’s over. 

“There were things that happened, things that I can’t tell you about. But you have to understand me, Lucas, I never wanted this to happen. I--” 

“What kind of things?” He thinks he’s doing a good job as keeping his face blank - emotionless. Judging by the despair written all over Elliot’s. 

“I-- I can’t say, but--” 

“Then I don’t want to hear it,” 

“Lucas--” 

“Figure out your  _ shit _ , Elliot! Make up your fucking mind! I can’t keep doing this!” With that he leaves, not looking back. He feels a tear slip down his cheek and it tickles his neck a little but he doesn’t wipe it away, just lets it alone. 

\--

\--

Lucas somehow convinces Manon to ditch last period on friday and he buys her a late lunch. “It’s your birthday,” he tells her, “I wanted to do something nice for you,” She smiles at him lovingly, a hand caressing the side of his face and agrees. He takes her to her favorite restaurant where they both pig out and each as much as they can. Afterwards they walk on the street where they find a guy selling cotton candy and he gets them both the biggest size. They take pictures in a photo booth, people-watch on a bench in the park, ride scooters around the city and try to not to kill anyone while doing it. 

They spend several hours out and about, doing whatever the fuck they want and having the time of their lives. It’s something that they both needed, Lucas thinks, and at 18h when he gets the text from Daphne that everything is ready to go and they can come now, it’s a blessing from the universe because Lucas had just ran out of ideas on what they could do and he had no clue how to continue stalling. 

“Are you ready to go?” He asks as they sit in an ice cream parlor, both of their milkshakes drained. 

“Ugh,  _ yes, _ ” she flops back in her chair, wide grin plastered on her lips. “I’m so full,” 

He smiles back at her just as sweetly, “Hope you have room for cake. Mika baked it,” he flicks his eyebrows up, smirking and she mocks a gag. 

“I think I might throw up then,” and yeah, Lucas might too because Mika’s worse in the kitchen than anyone they know. They laugh together, scooting out of their seats and gathering their things. It’s a short journey back home and they take their time. The sun is just on the edge of setting and it’s a nice view, the sky lighting up with orange and pink, purple and red. The city at night is one of Lucas’ favorite things to experience. He’s lucky to live where he does. 

“Thank you for today, Lucas,” she’s so sincere when she says it, so grateful. And Lucas can’t imagine ever not doing something like this for his best friend. She’s the most deserving person in the world. 

“Of course,” he shakes it off because it really isn’t a big deal, but he accepts the kiss on the cheek gives him nonetheless. 

He tries to hide his giddiness as they climb the stairs leading up to their flat. He’s excited to see what they’ve done with the place, he’s excited to see her reaction. He’s excited to get drunk. 

They unlock the door, pushing it open and it’s dark inside, the only light shining in through the street and hallway. “He must not be home,” Manon voices, breaching the threshold. 

“Must not,”

He lets her be the one to turn on the light, and it’s a beautiful moment when she does. Everyone’s there, everyone pops out yelling an enthusiastic  _ “Surprise!” _ with a big banner behind them, balloons, confetti, strings hanging from the ceiling. The did a great job, the place looks awesome and everyone’s got their party hats on. 

She throws her hands over her mouth in shock, stunned, and Lucas comes up behind her to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Happy birthday,” he whispers, grinning from ear to ear. 

Manon’s smart, and not a lot of things get past her, but they did pretty good at hiding this. She’s genuinely speechless. 

“Who did this?” She questions, and her words are muttled from where they’re spoken into her hands. She’s crying, Lucas knows that, but tears of joy. 

“100% the girls’ idea,” 

Everyone gathers around her, hugging her and tackling her until she disappears into the crowd. All the guys are here, all the girls, Mika, obviously, Alex, Sofiane and Idriss, and some other people they go to school with. Everyone that loves her. Everyone who would give her the world if they could. 

Truthfully Lucas wishes he had thought of the idea himself, but he’s glad that Daphy and the girls did. 

\--

\--

Lucas is drunk. Just like he hoped. The party is still in full swing, even at 23h. They’re all drinking, dancing, having a nice time. And Lucas fucking drunk. 

So drunk, in fact, that he deems it a good idea to call Elliot, who, thankfully, doesn’t answer. But that doesn’t stop Lucas, no. He just leaves a voicemail. One that he’s definitely not going to remember in the morning but oh well, who cares. 

“Elliot,” he speaks into the phone, “I j-just want you to know, I h-h-hate you,” he’s slurring, locked inside his bathroom so he can have some privacy, and he has to sit down because he’s too dizzy to stand up. “No I don’t,” he confesses immediately after, taking it back. “I wish I could b-but, it’s impossible to hate you. But I’m  _ reaallyy  _ mad at you so don’t even  _ think  _ about-- wait, I have to--” he throws the phone, flinging himself over the toilet and vomits. “Oh,” he groans when he’s done, his stomach empty. “Fuck,” he sits back on the floor, his head against the wall and completely disregarding his phone. 

At some point he pulls himself up just enough to rinse his mouth out because he  _ hates  _ the taste of throw up more than anything, and then slides back onto the floor. It’s cold, and it feels good on his body. He isn’t sure how long he lays there, just staring up at the ceiling, but eventually someone knocks on the door, coming in. 

“Lucas?” They murmur, and it sounds like Elliot but really Lucas has no idea. Maybe he wants it to be Elliot. Maybe he willed him here just by the power of his yearning for the other boy. “Are you okay?” They’re calm but clearly worried, crouching down in the floor beside him, a hand on his face. “Can you sit up?” 

It is Elliot. He’s-- in the bathroom with Lucas. At the flat. Why? “What are you doing here?” He isn’t as stuttery as he was earlier, but he’s still pretty wasted. 

“You, uh-- called me, I wanted to make sure you were okay. You hung up kinda abruptly, I didn’t know if…” he trails off, one of his hands rubbing absentmindedly up and down Lucas’ back and it feels better than he’d like to admit. “Can you stand?” Lucas nods, attempting to do so but isn’t doing it super great and Elliot helps tug him up on unsteady feet. “I’m going to take you to your room, okay?

“I can get there on my own, thank you,” Lucas says with a tinge of heat, gripping the bathroom counter. He barely even makes it past the door without wobbling and almost falling but Elliot’s right there with him, holding him up right until they get to Lucas’ room where he lies the younger boy down slowly onto the bed. 

After Lucas shrugs out of his clothes, in nothing but his underwear, he buries himself in the covers and Elliot tucks them around him. “I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” And Lucas hums. He’s not gone long, only a couple of minutes but to be honest Lucas’ frame of time probably isn’t the best reliable at the moment. “How much did you drink?” Elliot asks softly, handing over the glass and Lucas takes small sips, pacing himself. 

“Dunno,” 

“Is that..all? Or did you-- smoke anything, or..” 

Lucas looks at him pointedly, setting the water down on the table. “No, just drank,” Elliot bobs his head once, looks away, an apprehensive expression covering his face. “You don’t have to stay with me, I’m fine, I just got a little carried away,” it’s embarrassing to say, and especially to Elliot, he feels like an idiot. The drunk idiot who makes a fool of himself and ruins the party. Even though he doesn’t really  _ think  _ he did anything to ruin the party but he can’t know for sure until tomorrow. 

He shuffles around, pulling the covers up to his chin and turning to his side, facing Elliot. The older boy says nothing when Lucas closes his eyes, but after a couple moments he hears the light get turned off but his bedroom door never opens again, and it doesn’t take him long after that before he slips into slumber, letting the heavy pull of sleep take him away. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I wrote and rewrote this chapter like 17 times so I reaaallllyyy hope that it'll suffice!!
> 
> enjoy :)

Pounding. On his head. That’s the first thing he notices in the morning. A killer fucking headache. He peeks his eyes open just a sliver but the light is too much and he shoves his head under the covers. ..until he hears a quiet groan from inside the room and he’s  _ pretty  _ sure it didn’t come from himself so he snaps his eyes open, freezing, and everything from the night before rushes back into his head so fast he's got whiplash. 

Getting completely shitfaced, drunk dialling Elliot, Elliot  _ coming to his flat to check on him.  _

Slowly, he maneuvers his way out of the mess of blankets he’s trapped under and turns over, getting first glimpse of the body sprawled out in his floor. Elliot’s got one pillow and the tiny knitted quilt that sits at the end of Lucas’ bed that his grandma made him when he was younger. It barely covers his long body even as he’s curled up underneath it. 

Lucas ponders him for a few moments, watching the up and down of his chest move as he breathes in and out. Watches him wrinkle his nose. Watches the little puff of his lips and the grumpy furrow of his eyebrows. He’s sound asleep, totally out. It’s a deep slumber, Lucas can tell, and he wonders how long it’s been for the other boy. How long has it been since he got a nice, full night of rest? 

He decides to let him sleep. And Lucas lies there, allows himself to enjoy the gazing of the other boy as he’s done so many times before. The few times that he would wake up before Elliot, or the older boy would slip into a nap while they were together, Lucas would just lay there, studying him - every single little detail about his face and memorize all of it. He didn’t expect to get an opportunity again, though he had hoped, and even if these aren’t the best of circumstances, he does it anyways until he slips back to sleep himself. 

 

The next time he wakes up it’s to someone rustling around the room. He peers at Elliot as the guy folds his blanket up, setting it on top of the pillow, and when he notices Lucas up he shuffles nervously on his feet, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,”

Lucas swallows, his throat dry and he reaches for the glass of water on the table, throwing his legs over the mattress. “You slept in my floor,” his voice is raspy, sleep ridden. 

“Yeah, sorry, um-- I didn’t want to leave you alone,” 

“I’ve been drunk before, Elliot, I think I can handle it on my own,” 

The guy winces at the sharpness in Lucas' tone, “Right. Sorry, I was worried about you,” 

“Why?” Lucas bites, and why is he apologizing so much? Sorry this, sorry that. Little things, pointless things. Lucas doesn’t want to hear that. He doesn't care about that. “You weren’t worried about me a fucking month ago. Or at all, apparently, the entire time we were together.” It’s petty, he knows, but he can’t help it. And when he doesn't get a reply , he presses impatiently. " _Well_?"

Weary head hung down, eyes to the floor, Elliot mumbles, “I’m sorry,”

“I don’t want a fucking apology, Elliot! I don’t care about that! I want a damn explanation,” he’s pacing around the room now, back and forth between the door and his bed, clenching his fists and unclenching his fists. He chances a peek back at the boy. “And why can’t you fucking  _ look _ at me?” It’s a plea, he just wants to understand, he just wants Elliot to look him in the fucking eyes and  _ make  _ him understand. 

“Okay,” Elliot finally relents, hushed, “Okay, you’re right, I-- I fucked up,” and even with the distance between them Lucas can still hear the other boys’ gulp. “I said shitty things,  _ did  _ shitty things that I didn’t mean, and-- they weren’t fair to you and I  _ know  _ that, okay? You have every right to be upset with me but I swear to you Lucas, I  _ swear _ , none of it was real, alright?  _ None of it. _ ” 

Desperation. He’s desperate for Lucas to believe him. Maybe he’s telling the truth, maybe he didn’t mean any of it, but it doesn’t change the damage that it did. Doesn’t change the shittiness that Lucas felt afterwards. “Then what was the point?” He asks, more collected than he was before, a bit more delicate. “Why did you?” 

Several beats, several moments of silence, of Lucas considering Elliot, waiting on answers, waiting on Elliot to gain the confidence that he needs to  _ just say it.  _

“I’m no good for you, Lucas.” and fuck whatever Lucas thought his own voice sounded like. Elliot’s is  _ wrecked.  _ Destroyed. Nothing but sheer hopelessness in it. “And I thought that if I could just show you that-- show you how much of a dick I can be then it would be better for you. Just nip it in the bud before we get any more attached than we were, but I-- I can’t handle it anymore. I can’t fucking eat, I can’t sleep. Everything is so fucking lousy all the time and I-- I don’t know what to  _ do _ ,” 

The more he goes, the faster his breath gets. Lucas can hear the panic building up, the anxiety forcing its way to the surface, making itself known. He moves to sit down next to him, put a hand on his arm but the boy shoots up, moving away. “I’ll hold you back, weigh you down, Lucas, I know I will,” 

Lucas stands back up, approaching with a sense of apprehensiveness, but not for himself. For Elliot. “What are you talking abou--” 

“--You don’t deserve this, you deserve so much better than this,” 

“Elliot,” 

“I-I should never have bothered you, I knew it, I should have fucking controlled myself but I--” 

“ _ Elliot.” _

He stops, backed into the door and tears streaming down his cheeks. His breaths are coming in short and hasty, much like when they saw Lucille a couple of months ago and Lucas doesn’t fucking want that for Elliot, he doesn’t want him to hurt like this. “Breathe,” Lucas says, his voice is soft, calm, soothing, as he takes a fraction of a step forward. “Breathe, it’s okay,” 

The red rims surrounding Elliot’s eyes makes the blue in them pop. And they’re beautiful, so fucking beautiful but there’s so much in them. So much pain, so much doubt and fear and Lucas  _ aches  _ for him. A heavy turnaround in what he was feeling a mere a 3 minutes ago. There’s no more anger, not right now, just worry. 

Gently, Lucas inquires, “What’s going on?” 

Then, 2 words, just under his breath. Quiet, faint, muffled by the remains of his sobs. 

“I’m bipolar,” 

And Lucas is voiceless - _mute,_   as he mulls over what he just heard, contemplates Elliot. He should say something. He’s aware he should say something but-- what? 

“I wanted to tell you before,” Elliot continues, “But I don’t know, I was scared, I didn’t want it to change things, and then my parents came and they said that I shouldn’t tell you at all, I should just end things with you because you’d react the same way Lucille did-- it would be too much for you, just like it was her, she couldn’t handle it. And they were right, I shouldn’t burden you with it, I shouldn’t put that much on you, you shouldn’t have to worry about that,” 

It.. _bugs_ Lucas. That the Demaury’s made that decision for him, that they spoke for him. And he gets it, they were just looking out for their son. Protecting him. Making sure he avoids the same pain that  _ Lucille  _ caused. They don’t know Lucas, they met him for 2 seconds and all they know is what Elliot told them which couldn’t have been much. But  _ Elliot  _ knows Lucas, right? Doesn’t he have more faith in him than that? Doesn’t he trust him more than that? 

Whatever, that’s-- he shouldn’t be worried about that right now. This isn’t about him or how he feels or whether he’s offended or not. It’s about Elliot. Finding the courage to tell Lucas, share it with him. 

“Elliot,” he utters brokenly, needily, before wrapping his arms around him, dragging him into a bone crushing hug. “I don’t know what happened with Lucille, I don’t know how she reacted or how she dealt with it, or--  _ didn’t  _ deal with it but I’m here now, okay? I’m not going anywhere, we do this together. You're not alone anymore.” Because this doesn't change anything. Lucas dealt with his mother, he can deal with this. He loves Elliot. No matter fucking what, he loves Elliot and there's no way in hell that he's going to let something like this ruin his relationship, just like he let it ruin him and his mothers relationship for the last year and a half. Not again. He fights this time, he stays. 

But Elliot's pulling away, separating them. “No, Lucas _ no _ , you don’t understand,” he snivels, arguing, settling on the other side of the room. “You say that now but you’ve never seen me like that, you can’t say that yet. You’ll hate it, okay? I promise you’ll hate it. I’ll yet at you and make you feel awful, like it’s your fault. And I’ll shut you out, ignore you. Or sometimes I’ll just sleep, for  _ days  _ and I won’t get up, I’ll just be in your way. Or I’ll just fucking leave and won’t tell you where I’m going and it’ll just cause you to worry even more. It’s shit for me and it’ll be shit for you too.”    


“So?” Lucas expasperates, shortening the distance once more but still leaving enough space between them so Elliot doesn’t feel locked in - suffocated. “You don’t think I’ll get upset with you too? Ignore you? Scream at you and make you feel like shit? I’m not bipolar and I’ll do that, Elliot. And you’ll have to put up with it just as much as I will. Neither of us are perfect, are we? But I’d rather be worried about you or pissed at you than to not have you at all, alright?” Elliot looks away, swallowing but he doesn’t look as dubious anymore and Lucas counts that as a good thing. “It was shit without you, okay? I don’t want to do that again,” 

Elliot lets out a choked breath as he closes in until the gap between them is no longer. He lets himself fall into Lucas, the weight on top of his shoulders visibly lifting, even if only a little. “Me neither,”

\--

\--

They sat down and actually communicated with each other. Elliot recalled things that happened with Lucille, how she agreed to handle it together but as soon as she actually experienced how bad it could get, she left. Which Elliot says he didn’t blame her for it because it couldn’t have been easy, but later on he had found out she’d been seeing someone while they were together, cheating on him and that-- wasn’t a great time for him afterwards. 

Lucas in return shares the issues he’s been having with his mother and the other things going on with that. He tells Elliot about his father, how he couldn’t handle it either. He tells him in more detail about how he ended up living with Manon and Mika.  They both participate in apprising the other of their backstories and it’s filled with laughs, more tears, feelings of sorriness for the other but in the end they’re closer to each other, they know more about each other and Lucas  _ loves that.  _

They’re currently lying on his bed and neither of them have left the room once. Tangled up together, can’t tell their limbs apart because they’re just one huge pile of  _ body.  _ Lucas’ hand is in its rightful place of Elliot’s hair, and his head is in its rightful place of Elliot’s neck. 

“Lucas?” Elliot whispers, his mouth pressed into the smaller boys’ hair. Lucas hums. “I’m sorry,” 

“For what?” 

There’s a pause, and then a sheepish mutter of, “Kissing Maria,” at the mention of it, a dark feeling whirls in Lucas’ stomach but he thinks it’s mostly a protectiveness, maybe some jealousy, a dash of possessiveness but that part he can keep to himself. “It was dumb and I hated every second of it. I just-- I didn’t want you to feel anything for me, I wanted you to hate me." in a lower tone, he adds, "I thought it would be easier for you if you hated me,"

And so that's what Imane was talking about, then? How you make a decision for someone because you think you're helping them and doing what's best. You think you're saving them from the hurt but really you're just adding to it? 

“It’s okay,” Lucas says, because it _is_ okay. Even if it was fucking horrible at the time, he has Elliot _now_. They’re  _ together  _ and _ happy _ . “I’m sorry, too,” he looks up at the older boy through his eye lashes. “I shouldn’t have pressured you the other day when we talked. It wasn’t fair, I should have just given you time to tell me when you were ready. I shouldn't have walked out like that."

“You were angry with me,” Elliot defends him because that's just the type of amazing fucking guy that he is. And, as if he can feel Lucas about to protest, he continues, “Hey, none of that matters anymore, okay? All that's important is that we’re here now, right?” Lucas nods and reaches up to give him a kiss. His stomach rumbles, ruining the moment and Elliot chuckles at him,  “We should get you some food,” an opened mouth kiss to the forehead, “I’ll even make it for you,”

“You know, on second thought…” he giggles when he’s pulled closer, cuddled tighter. 

“It's nice to see you smile again,” Elliot comments fondly, that look in his eyes that he's always had when he peers at Lucas. Lucas missed it. 

"Come on," he chuckles, because he still has no idea what to do when he's pinned under that damn gaze. Elliot wrestles him out of bed until finally they nudge each other into the hallway. “What time is it, anyways?”

“No idea,” the kitchen and living room are both empty. The decorations are still up, balloons spread about but that’s the only sign of the party from the night before - the flat is otherwise spotless. “Manon?” he calls, “Mika?” Nothing. 

“Hey," Elliot's holding out a note and he takes it, reads it. 

_ Thought we’d give you some privacy. Call if you need us, we love you! - M&M  _

Lucas smiles and makes a mental note to text them and update them on what's going on. He turns around and Elliot’s turning the stove eye on, a smirk plastered on his lips and he asks, “So what’ll be? More eggs?” 

“Okay, Chef Gusteau, I think I got this one,” he slides the taller boy aside and Elliot only comes up behind him to wrap his arms around his waist, pecking his cheek. Lucas scrambles up some eggs and gives his boyfriend the simple task of toasting some bread, which he thankfully managed to not burn. When they sat down to eat Elliot scoot his chair over from the other side of the table to sit next to Lucas and when the latter gave him a raised eyebrow in question, he only shrugged and answered,

“What? I missed you,” 

 

It was about an hour later when the rest of the flat returned home. Elliot was in the shower when they had walked in and they took one look at Lucas sitting alone and had immediately assumed the worst. Mika asked, “It didn’t go well?” while Manon was a bit more subtle with her curiosity, plopping down next to him on the couch, concern evident in the wrinkle of her eyebrows. 

“He’s in the shower,” Lucas informs, and can’t help the tiny smile that graces his lips just because  _ he can say that. Elliot is at his apartment. Spending time with him. Kissing him whenever either of them wants. Loving on each other, hugging and snuggling and being cute fucking boyfriends and  _ Lucas is just fucking happy about that. He can’t contain it. Sue him.

Manon grins proudly and squeezes her arms around him. “So everything’s okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he nods his head, “Everything’s great. We talked about it all, he explained everything. It was-- it was nice. To be able to clear it up. I think we both feel a lot better now,” 

“Well good,” Manon pinches his cheek teasingly, “As long as you’re happy, that’s all we care about. Right, Mika?” 

Mika still looks pretty iffy, undecided on how he feels after all that’s happened, but eventually he nods. “Right,” and Lucas silently thanks him, grateful that he didn’t go into ‘Dad Mode’. “I’ll save the  _ break his heart and I’ll break your face  _ chat for Yann, hm?” 

Spoke too soon, apparently. 

\--

\--

**_Le Gang -_ ** sunday

 

**_Lucas_ **

_ Elliot and I are back together _

**_Yann_ **

_ For real?? Everything’s cool?  _

**_Basile_ **

_ ELU FOREVER BABES. FUCKING SOULMATES I KNEW IT  _

**_Arthur_ **

_ Elu??  _

**_Basile_ **

_ Elliot and Lucas?? I thought we decided this a while ago?? It was either that or Lulliot but Lulu said if we ever called them that then he’d never speak to us again _

**_Lucas_ **

_ I’ll explain more tomorrow, but don’t make a big deal about it okay. Be chill _

**_Arthur_ **

_ @Baz whatever  _

_ We’re happy for you, Lulu <33 we got you _

**_Yann_ **

_ Of course bro, as long as you’re good _

**_Lucas_ **

_ Thanks guys. Seriously _

\--

\--

They’re about 10 feet away from the guys when they walk through the gates on monday morning. They spent the rest of the weekend together and even last night, Elliot refusing to leave Lucas’ side and Lucas not having a single fucking qualm about it. Of course, that meant that the older boy didn’t have any duds of his own to wear so he  _ had  _ to borrow some of Lucas’, which, the younger boy  _ also  _ didn’t have any qualms about. 

One of Elliot’s hands are entwined with his boyfriends’ and the other one is pulling at the grey  _ romance  _ hoodie that might be a tad bit snug on him but who cares? “It’s too tight,” he grumbles half heartedly, and Lucas titters. 

“I don’t see any problems with it,” 

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Elliot narrows his eyes playfully. “You can see my fucking nipples through it, Lucas,” 

The latter smirks, “Like I said, no problems,” and his boyfriend tugs him closer, pulling him into his side and ruffles his hair, 

“Ass,” he laughs, and Lucas looks like a grumpy little hedgehog at the disheveling of his brown locks. The younger is just about to retort when they hear an enthusiastic  _ “Elliot!!”  _ coming from in front of them and they both look up to see Basile running towards them with his arms stretched out as he throws himself into Elliot’s own. 

“So glad to have you back,” he exclaims dramatically, tightening his grip and Lucas huffs to himself,  _ so much for chill.  _ But it’s hard not to laugh at the dumbass so he does anyways.

“Okay Baz, I think he gets it,” and when the boy makes no move to let go, swaying them back and forth, “ _ Baz. _ ” because seriously, get off of his boyfriend. 

The other 2 join them, Yann looking a bit wary but he seems cool. Not being an ass, not being intimidating or anything, just..cautious. Scoping Elliot out. Just as any other best friend would in this situation. “Sup?” 

Elliot nods once in a “bro way” and then they stare at each other for like 6 seconds before grabbing hands and doing the whole guy hug thing and it’s the weirdest interaction that Lucas has ever seen. It was unspoken but they conveyed everything that they needed to just through that. There was an understanding between them. And then all of a sudden everyone’s okay, everyone’s laughing and getting along and it’s like nothing had ever happened. Elliot gives Basile girl advice, Yann and him team up to tease Lucas. Arthur makes fun of everyone and then plays on all of their sides. Everyone gripes and moans about the couple being so affectionate and gross whenever Lucas wordlessly begs Elliot for a kiss. 

And honestly, it’s what Lucas had been wishing for this entire time. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think in the comments :) thanks so much for reading <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she’s is a little late but i’m sorry. also sorry for any mistakes, its nearly 4 am & i’m fucking beat

Lucas didn't intend to have some sort of  _ Jesus Epiphany _ his first time back at church. And that's not what it is, he’s sure of it, but it's certainly not just a regular service for him, either. When he was younger, he didn't quite grasp the concept of religion. He knew what it was, he knew who God was and Jesus and he knew the stories, he knew that people counted on religion for a lot of things, but he never really felt that way about it himself. He just believed in God and he prayed when things were rough, prayed every night before bed, and prayed before every meal. Because that's what he was taught. 

But it never felt like the prayers were working, he never felt like anyone was actually listening to him, like they were hearing what he was saying and then were doing something about it. 

And the older he got, the more faith he lost and then eventually there was just nothing. 

He hasn't been religious in  _ years.  _ He hasn't prayed, he hasn't blamed God for the things gone wrong in his life, he hasn't  _ thanked _ God for the things gone right. It's just how things were. It's how everything worked out. 

But it's no coincidence that his first time back in church after so long of not giving it or the Lord a second thought, the sermon is everything that he needed to hear, without knowing it was what he needed until he actually heard it. At least, he doesn't want to think it's a coincidence. He wants to think it means something. 

The sermon just so happened to be on what it meant to be a disciple. Lucas was on edge about it at first, he kept glancing to his mom throughout the service, see if he could read her facial expressions, if she thought anything of showing up in his room in the middle of the night to give him this exact lesson. She didn't really react much, just nodded at certain points and would close her eyes to just  _ appreciate. _ Take it all in. At some point she reached across and took Lucas’ hand. 

So Lucas listened, too. And he appreciated more than he expected to. 

The first thing out of the pastor's mouth was an apology. “I’m sorry for those of you who have had bad experiences with Christianity, or even God in general,” he started, and that’s when Lucas decided to start taking this all a little bit more seriously. “There are churches out there, and members of those churches, who have this twisted way of what it means to be a Christian. They take it to the extremes, give others bad impressions and it makes people turn away from it. Say, ‘if that’s what that is, then I don’t want it,’” he looks at each member sitting in the pews, considers his audience. 

Lucas’ initial thought is that it’s cool that another pastor acknowledges this. 

Because he’s never felt like religion would accept him. He’s gay, afterall. A homosexual. And it’s frowned upon by many - religious folks and even non. They teach you that as you grow up, they tell you it’s wrong and they try to keep you from going down that path of sins. Lucas knew someone when his family still attended service. It was a guy, about 6 years older than him. He can remember the guy coming out, letting it be known to everyone that he was, in fact, attracted to men. The same sex. 

Lucas isn’t sure of what happened behind the scenes after that but the next he heard the guy  _ wasn’t _ actually gay. It was a misunderstanding, he was confused. They had “fixed” him. 

Not that long ago he ran into a girl he was in bible study with. He asked her about the certain people at the church that he did enjoy the company of, that didn’t shun his family after what had happened with his mother. He asked about the guy. What he gathered from what she had told him was that, said guy was actually gay, as it turns out (who would have thought) and the church came to the conclusion that they were okay with it, they could accept that small, tiny flaw about him.  _ As long  _ as he didn’t act on it.  _ As long  _ as he kept it to himself and didn’t make a point of sharing it.  _ As long  _ as he lived the rest of his life miserably because the people who are supposed to be there for you and love you unconditionally because  _ that’s God will,  _ will only love you on their terms. Will only love you when they deem you worthy enough. 

_ Go back into the closet and you’ll be happy. We’ll love you then. You’re wrong, but we can help you. And then God will love you once more.  _

It is twisted. It is extreme. It’s sick. 

And that brings the next thing the pastor mentions. “We can grow up in a certain church environment and it shape our views on what Christianity is, and it not actually be what’s right. Does that make sense?” He asks, and Lucas finds himself nodding along with the others. “For those of us who come to that realization, it might ruin religion for us all together because of the toxicity, and that’s all you associate it with because that’s all you know. It almost happened to me, luckily it didn’t. I’m here to tell you that it  _ doesn’t  _ have to be like that, you don’t have to be perfect and have these absurd views on what you  _ think  _ God wants. It drives people insane trying to live up to those expectations.  _ That’s _ not what God wanted, I know this.” 

By the end of it Lucas is red faced trying to hold in his tears. 

It’s not a Jesus Epiphany. It’s just, it makes him feel better to know that he’s not alone in his feelings towards this. And he’s not wrong for distancing himself from religion. He’s not going to hell for it. 

He goes to one service after nearly 6 years of not going, and his entire life  _ of  _ going before that, and this is the most he’s ever felt accepted by religion. 

He has half a mind to introduce himself to the pastor afterwards and thank him for everything.

“What did you think?” His mom asks him as they tread through the exit doors when it’s over. Everyone stands about outside, chatting with each other, discussing their favorite parts of the sermon, maybe making lunch plans with each other now that it’s out. 

“I enjoyed it,” Lucas tells her simply, because he isn’t sure how to actually translate his thoughts into words that can be comprehended by another human. 

“Yeah?” She’s happy. Lucas is glad he came. 

“Yeah,” he beams, sweet and genuine as he links his arm with hers. “I’d like to do this again,” the smile he gets in return is one of the most heartwarming things he’s ever experienced. It was a gift. 

When he drops her off back at the homes, he finds himself dreading the upcoming departure. He had a nice time with her today, he had a nice time with her on tuesday when he surprised her with a visit, he had a nice time talking to her on the phone thursday night when she called to ask him about church. 

Not everything is fixed between them, not yet, and it’ll take time for Lucas to feel like he himself has made it up to her for abandoning her, no matter how times she insists that she doesn’t see it and that she understands why he’d need space. 

There’s healing that still needs to be done, but he’s here for it. 

He checks her back in with the nurse and then walks her back to her room. “Mom?” he speaks, and she must hear the hesitance in his voice because she turns to him fully, eyes wide with attention. “I, uhm— I have a boyfriend,” he tells her, because he finally feels ready to share it and maybe bring his two worlds together. He’s managed to keep this particular topic at a bare minimum and shut it down immediately, though subtly and without raising caution, ever since he told her he was gay. 

The light blue of her irises turn a brilliant shade of azure as they sparkle with joy. “That’s amazing, sweety. What’s his name?” 

“Elliot,” it's so effortless to share, sliding off his tongue and sending warmth straight to his chest. 

“Well when do I get to meet him?” 

“Soon, I hope,” and then he adds, “I think you’ll love him,” 

She grins at him, her motherly grin that’s specifically for him an no one else, “I know I will, Lucas. You’ve always surrounded yourself with people who are nothing less than deserving to be around you. I’m sure it’s no different with him,” she squeezes his arm, “next time you’ll tell me all about him, okay? And then I won’t wait any longer to meet him,” 

A chuckle sparks in his throat and he leans forward to pull her into a hug. “Alright, deal,” 

—

—

Elliot’s lying on his bed when Lucas returns home, his head is at the foot and his feet sit right above the headrest. He jumps up when Lucas enters, greeting him with a kind smile and a kiss. “Hey, baby,” he says, “how’d it go?” 

Lucas bites the inside of his lip as he takes off his jacket. “Great, actually,”

Elliot watches him as he takes his shoes off, gets comfortable now that he’s back home. “Really? Church was okay?” The younger boy hadn’t stopped voicing his nervousness ever since the plans had been made, and poor Elliot was the one who had to sit and listen to it all. 

Lucas tugs off his dress pants, desperate to be out of them because he can’t stand the way the fabric feels on his legs. He begins unbuttoning his shirt and doesn’t miss the way his boyfriend’s eyes linger on every button as his hands work down. “Yeah, I feel a lot better about it,” Shirt hanging open on his chest, in only a pair of underwear and some socks. “How are you?” 

“Hm? Oh, I’m okay,” there’s something else in his voice, something else he wants to say but isn’t, and Lucas pauses from where he’s searching through his drawers from some clothes and he raises an eyebrow in question. “I talked to my parents,” Elliot exclaims eventually, “Told them about you,” 

It was something they had both been worried about - how the older boys’ parents would react to Lucas still being in the picture and Elliot deciding against their wishes. “What..did they say?”

He shrugs, and Lucas pads over to him to stand between his legs. Elliot’s hands instinctively reach out for his waist. “Pretty much just that it was my decision and I’d have to deal with whatever outcome there is,” 

“The outcome is that we’re in this together now, and I’m not going anywhere, ever. No matter what happens,” his hands go up to Elliot’s shoulders and entwine at the nape of his neck. 

“You can’t be sure of that, Lucas,” and the latter sighs. It’s a conversation they’ve had multiple times in the last week. 

“Maybe you’re right, okay? But, what about this,” he steps closer, further into the other’s space, “We don’t think about then. Neither of us are ever going to be satisfied if all we worry about is the future, so what if we just take things day by day. Hour by hour, even,” Elliot smiles adoringly and Lucas can see his resolve breaking some, “Or minute by minute,” 

“Minute by minute, huh?” 

Their faces are less than centimeters away, and Lucas nods, his nose brushing against Elliot’s, “Minute by minute,” 

“Okay,” the taller agrees, “What do you suggest we do in this minute?” 

Lucas breathes a laugh, “I have a couple ideas,” he’s able to choke out before Elliot drags him as close as they can get and tackles him into the mattress. “ _ No, _ ” he protests, giggling as fingers are back to dancing into his ribs, under his arms, on his back, “We’re not doing this again,” but the fight is no use. He’s fucking being tickled. 

—

—

Wednesday afternoon finds Lucas in the kitchen baking some sweets. He somehow let himself be talked into making those fucking blueberry/bacon muffins that Elliot’s always going on about. They had been sitting in the living room, both doing their separate homework and in need of a break when Lucas threw his back in a sigh and exclaimed he was in desperate need of something sweet. Of course Elliot  _ inevitably  _ (because he wouldn’t be Elliot if he hadn’t) offered himself up, claiming to be a “snack.” Lucas indulged for a couple of minutes (how could he not) letting himself be swept away by the older boys’ admittedly sweet kisses, before pulling away, patting his chest and saying, “Okay, time for a real snack,” Elliot reeled back, affronted, hand over his chest. 

“Ouch,” 

“You’re a dork,” Lucas tittered, reaching out both hands to pull his boyfriend up. He saw the beginnings of a cheesy retort on Elliot’s lips and quickly squashed it. “Nope,” 

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” he argues. Lucas gives him a pointed look, narrowing his eyes. “It could have actually been really sweet and adorable, and you didn’t even give me a chance,” 

Lucas shakes his head, letting out a breath. He reluctantly relents, “Okay, go,” 

Elliot gets a devious grin on his face, “Yeah, but I’m  _ your _ dork,” and Lucas immediately slams a palm into his face in disappointment.

“Dang it, Elliot,” but it only earns him a laugh in return. He allows himself to be tucked into the other’s chest, an arm holding the back of his neck. He can’t help but let out a chuckle at how fucking dumb this man is. 

“It was good, right?” 

The smaller mumbles into Elliot’s peck, voice dripping of nothing but absolute adoration for the other, “You’re the worst,” the chest beneath him vibrates with a rumbling burst of laughter, right under Lucas’ ear and he smiles,  _ such a beautiful sound.  _ He could listen to it all day. “What should we make?” 

Elliot sways their bodies back and forth, side to side. There’s no other way to describe what he’s doing to Lucas right now but  _ cradling him, _ which the latter has no problem with. It’s a personal favorite of his to be held, and it’s certainly no secret to the older boy. “Mm,” he hums in thought. 

“I swear if you say—“ 

“— Blueberry bacon muffins!” 

Lucas lets out a mock cry, “ _ No, _ ” 

“Please!” Elliot begs, doing quite the nice job at mirroring a five year old child. He pushes Lucas by his shoulders so they can look at each other, “You know you're curious,” 

“No way,” the smaller boy says petulantly, stubbornly. 

“Lucas!” He should have known what he was fucking in for the second Elliot got that tone to his voice because soon there's a mouth at his damn ear, nibbling on the lobe and blowing in hot breath as he pleads in a quiet whisper, “Please, baby,” he places a kiss to the skin there, “please,” another kiss to his jaw, “please,” his throat, “please,” moving on up to his chin, then the side of his mouth, his cheek, his eye. “Please, please, please, ple—“ 

“ _ Okay,”  _ Lucas finally accedes, simpering as he tries to squirm away from his boyfriend’s touch but it’s to no avail, “Okay, okay, we can do it,” and instead of being let loose, he’s picked up and spun around as Elliot cheers loudly. When he’s finally put down and catches a glimpse of the brightest, widest, toothiest smile he’s ever seen, it's only natural he matches it with his own. “You’re insatiable, you know that?” 

 

They left for the store soon after because it turned out they didn't have any of the ingredients that they needed. Elliot was ecstatic the entire way there, the whole time they were shopping, and even more on their trip back. Jumping with enthusiasm. It was cute, Lucas thought.

When they’re back to the apartment and begin their work, Lucas asks, “So what’s the story behind these, anyways?” 

Elliot’s unpacking their grocery bags and setting everything on the counter. “I don’t really know, actually. I think I just got bored one day and thought it was such an odd mix, why not give it a try? Curiosity, you know,” 

“Okay, Mr. Hollywood, let’s do it to it,” he pats the boys’ ass, basking in the way he jumps forward with a tiny  _ yelp. _

Elliot seems to know what he’s doing okay. Either he’s making up directions and proportions of how much goes into what along the way, or he’s just got the entire recipe memorized. Lucas decides he’d rather not know the answer to that. It also turns out that between the two of them, they share exactly 1 brain cell and it's honestly a miracle as to how they didn't burn down the entire place in the process of this. ( _ “Did you spray the pan?” “No, you do that afterwards,” “Why would you do that afterwards?” a pause. “Fuck,” _ ) and ( _ “Is the oven preheated?” “I don't know, did you turn it on?” “No I thought you did!” _ ) 

When they finally got them in the oven and then cleaned up the huge mess leftover, they settled back into the living room, crashing on the couch and pressed into each other's sides. 

“What time does everyone get home?” 

Lucas glances at the clock on the wall, “Um, I don’t know, a couple hours maybe,” he looks over at Elliot and sees nothing but a sly smirk. They’re both thinking the same thing, it’s not hard to figure that out, and especially not after they crush their lips together in a searing kiss. 

Lucas pushes forward until Elliot’s on his back and he’s hovering over him. He slots a leg between the back couch cushion and the taller boys’ side, and the other leg slides between the latter’s two - knee pushing into his crotch. 

Elliot’s hand comes up and pushes up the hem of Lucas’ shirt, fingers scraping along his back. He suppresses a shiver at the cool touch, grinds his body down more. 

They’ve spent almost every night together since they reunited and still haven’t had sex. Well, not  _ penetrative _ sex. There’ve been hand jobs, a couple of blow jobs. Just in the span of their relationship. Elliot’s aware Lucas is a virgin, and it’s sweet because he’s always so gentle in their movements, so caring and tender. He asks what Lucas wants, asks if he’s feeling good, asks if he’s okay during. 

Sex to Lucas has never really been something that he’s just absolutely dying to have. Sure, before he met Elliot there was the occasional unavoidable case of hornyness that was easily solved with release, but it’s not something he’s been thinking about doing ever since he knew what it was. 

Not to say that the mere thought of it didn’t make the butterflies in his stomach start dancing uncontrollably, but it was more “worry about it when you meet someone worth doing it with.” 

And then this whole thing with Elliot started and, well, with a face and body like  _ that,  _ it’s hard not to think about these things. At first he was scared because he was inexperienced and Elliot was  _ not.  _ Was he going to be good enough? What if he made a fool of himself and Elliot decided he didn’t want to have sex with a fucking immature kid? 

And then the time came to actually have a sexual interaction with him and everything was so easy, so naturally effortless. Elliot could tell he was nervous and he helped him through it, told him  _ we don’t have to if you don’t want to, Lucas, it’s okay, we can stop, _ but Lucas didn’t want to stop. 

It was enjoyable, pleasurable. Became something that he thought more of, couldn’t wait to do it again. 

But then he started thinking about actual sex. Like,  _ real  _ sex. What if it hurts? What if it doesn’t feel good? What if he’s one of those people who just don’t enjoy it like that? Will Elliot decide he can’t live without and wants someone who isn’t such a baby? 

Now, though, he isn’t thinking about that. Maybe it’ll hurt, maybe it won’t be that bad. Whatever it is, he  _ knows  _ Elliot will take care of him. He  _ knows  _ Elliot will be incredibly considerate and care nothing about anything else other than how Lucas is doing. He knows he’s safe with Elliot. And that simple certainty is enough to overshadow all of his other fears and worries and just  _ do.  _

“Elliot,” he murmurs into his mouth because things are getting pretty hot and he can feel himself about to burst out of his damn pants if he doesn’t do something quick. 

“Yeah, baby?” 

“I’m ready,” 

“What?” Elliot turns his head away, peering into to the younger boys’ eyes, searching for something,  _ anything. _

Lucas swallows, gaze unwavering and his voice strong. “I’m ready,” 

A smile spreads across his kiss-bruised lips. “A-Are you sure? Really?” Lucas leans forward to peck him on the lips, passionate and positive. 

“I’m ready,” he whispers one last time before there’s a mouth on his again and strong hands coming up to flip them over, Lucas’ legs wrapping around the back of Elliot’s. 

They both start laughing, elated, loving the feeling of one another. His hands dip down to the taller boys’ belt, unbuckling as the teeth on his neck bite down and suck a spot. 

Lucas gasps, his head tossing back in pleasure. “Fuck,” he breathes, and Elliot hums against his neck. He’s finally got the pants undone, now starting to push at this shirt,  _ needing _ bare skin, and then — 

_ Beep. Beep. Beep.  _

The fucking oven goes off. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he grumbles, and the body on top of him shakes with chuckles. Elliot pushes up, sending an apologetic look to his boyfriend who rolls his eyes in frustration. Elliot smiles, leaning down to kiss him once before maneuvering off of him so the smaller can go check on the muffins. “My fucking luck,” 

Elliot yells after him playfully, “If you don’t take too long the moment won’t be completely lost,” 

“Mhm,” he hums, not quite bitterly but not necessarily  _ not _ bitterly. 

After finding an oven mitt, he reaches in to pull the pan off the rack, grabbing a toothpick with his other hand to poke. At the same time there’s a knock on the door and he calls for Elliot, asking if he can answer it. He doesn’t pay too much attention to who’s there, probably just the next door neighbor to tell them they’re being too loud again.

The muffins are done and he sets them on top of the stove as hears a deep voice ask, “Is Lucas here?” and his stomach drops. No, no, no. Not fucking today, this man has the worst timing of anyone he’s ever met in his entire life.

“Lu?” Elliot peeks his head behind the wall and Lucas gives him a look, slowly walking towards them. He takes one look at the newcomer, whose hands are full of — grocery bags? What? 

“What are you doing here, dad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ELLIOT CALLS LUCAS SOME CUTE SHIT LIKE LU & NO ONE CAN TELL ME DIFFERENTLY


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> she's a bit short today folks so i apologize. and also i'm sorry we're late, i was super busy this weekend. anyways i hope you love her, she's full of fluff cuz i miss our boys. please leave comments and kudos! i live for them!! <3

“You must be Mika,” Lucas’ dad greets Elliot, ignoring his son’s question, his demanding stare. He walks through the door with his arms full, dropping the plastic bags on the table.

Elliot’s eyes shift back and forth between the two Lallemant’s, “Uh, actually—“ 

“ _ Dad, _ ”

“What, Lucas?” The man asks, “I can’t stop by and see my son?” 

“How do you know where I live?” 

“I pay your rent every month, you think I don’t know where my money’s going?” 

Lucas glares at him and he can feel Elliot shuffling nervously on his feet, clearly feeling awkward in a situation that’s less than ideal. He wants to reach out to him, make sure he doesn’t feel uncomfortable because this is so fucking bizarre, but Lucas himself is uncomfortable and he wasn’t really planning on introducing these two anytime soon, considering his father’s lack of support for the best part of Lucas’ life and mostly after he came out. “What is all of this?” he says instead, waving a hand to the groceries, refraining from peeking inside them. 

His dad stops from where he’s unpacking bags and he puts a hand on the table, exhaling. He looks at Lucas, then to Elliot and back to Lucas, like he’s contemplating saying anything because there’s a stranger in the room, a foreigner to their long lasting predicament. But regardless of how much his dad knows or doesn’t know Elliot, Lucas knows him. And Lucas is fucking fine with him being here, so he raises an eyebrow, waits for an answer. 

“Look, son,” and the fake genuinity in his voice is already triggering a dramatic and intolerable eye roll from said son. “I figured that with everything going on with your mother and I, perhaps I could extend an olive branch of sorts and buy you some things you might need around here,” 

Is— is he serious? An olive branch? Groceries? He thinks—??

“The place looks great by the way,” he adds with his fucking smile that he uses when he’s trying to charm someone into making a deal with him. It’s how he makes all of his sales at work. He’s been playing people his entire life, he’s got it down to a T. 

Lucas is vaguely aware of Elliot crossing the small space in the kitchen to stand in the corner of the stove and sink, only a foot away from the former. “I don’t want it,” he states, and it’s quiet but there’s a lot of weight to it. 

“Son, do you think we could talk about this in private? Maybe your friend wants to—“ 

“He’s _fine_ ,” Lucas cuts him off, and maybe later he’ll think about how weird Elliot must be feeling being caught in this but at the moment his presence is a grounding force that Lucas can-- _is --_ holding onto to steady himself. “I don’t want any of this. Not your _generosity,_ or your concerns of how I’m doing. I don’t even want your money anymore, dad, I just want you to drop whatever shit you’re trying to pull with mom and leave us alone. I don’t— why do you _insist_ on going through with this?” 

“I’ve told you numerous times, Lucas, it’s for the wellbeing of your mother—“ 

“You don’t care about the wellbeing of my mother!” Lucas outbursts, feeling the veins pop out of his neck and the heat rising in his face. “If you did then you would have been there for her! For both of us! You wouldn’t be doing  _ this! _ ” A single teardrop spills over his waterline and down his cheek. 

“I understand you’re upset, son, and I’m sorry that you feel that way, but sooner or later you’re just going to have to realize that this is what’s best.” With that, he sends one last look to the boy, and then to Elliot and says, “It was nice meeting you, Mika,” before he slips out of the door empty handed and Lucas almost fucking breaks down in some sort of miserable, dreadful laughter right then and there because  _ what the fuck _ . 

After several moments of silence, the only sound to be heard is the couples breathing. Lucas is rubbing his forehead with his pointer and middle finger when Elliot speaks, 

“So your dad seems pretty nice,” and Lucas shoots his head up, eyes squinting in the most dangerous of glares when he sees the amused expression on his boyfriend’s face. 

He elbows his side, mutters, “Jackass,” and moves to unpack the rest of those damned groceries. 

—

—

To say that the visit from Lucas’ father was stressful for the younger boy would be a vast understatement. A couple of days had passed and Lucas was tired, so fucking tired of having to deal with the constant bullshit coming from the man. 

He woke up this morning and thought that maybe he could actually have a normal day, try to focus on other things - like his classwork and his friends, Elliot, just anything else that wasn’t this shitty case with his family. And it was going well...for five minutes. Maybe. He had woken up, allowed himself to just lie there, bask in the comfort of pillows and warm blankets. It was a school day, and he and Elliot had decided to stay the night at the latters apartment for some privacy after having spent so many nights at the flat. Though the older boy wasn’t in bed with him currently, probably out on his balcony drinking some coffee or something - tea, probably, and drawing. He’d been doing that since the whether has gotten a little warmer out. 

So Lucas lays there, his eyes closed,  _ just a few more minutes.  _ And he thinks about nothing at all, just the scent of Elliot that’s surrounding him, burying him, taking him over. That is, until his phone buzzes and he almost ignores it,  _ almost  _ but decides not to and rolls over, stretching his arms and legs out before reaching across the mattress to the device on the table. 

**_Maye_ **

_ Hi honey, sorry to bother you so early but I just got the date of the custody hearing. Next monday at 9:30. I know you’ve got school so it’s up to you whether to go or not. Just let me know.  _

And then everything comes crashing back to him and he’s groaning, tossing his cell to the foot of the bed and throwing Elliot’s pillow over his head. He lets out a quiet yell, nothing that the neighbors could hear, and then he figures it’s probably time to face the inevitably shitty day and get up. He has next to no energy at the moment, so the first thing he does instead of straying out to greet his boyfriend, is stumble into the bathroom for a shower. It’s a sure fire way to knock him awake a bit, make him feel a little more alive. 

As good as standing under the spray and letting the water wash over him feels, nothing quite beats the relaxation he feels while scrubbing his head with shampoo. His mother once told him it’s because massaging the scalp is a great stress relief and that’s why it feels so good to have your hair played with, because you’re releasing some of the tension in your body. His fingers rotate in circles, kneading into to his skull and it’s-- great. He closes his eyes and revels in it as the spray still hits his lower back. He’s so lost, in fact, that he fails to hear the bathroom door creak open until there’s a small call of his name and he jumps slightly, a sharp intake of breath. “Yeah?” he asks back, and hears the quiet chuckle Elliot let’s out. 

“I made you some tea,” he offers sweetly and Lucas can’t contain the tiny slit of his lips that tilts up. He sticks his head out, a mountain of soap sitting atop it, and all he does is smile big and silly. The laugh he gets in return is damn near enough motivation for him to get through the rest of the day.

Elliot sets the mug on the sink counter and saunters over slowly, his socked feet sliding against the tile. He’s not wearing a shirt, only a pair of black sweats that fit snug in all the right places, and Lucas rakes his eyes down his bare chest, eyes lingering over the tattoo on his peck. He bites his lip, “You know, you can join me if you want,” it’s a joke, of course, because he might be ready to have sex, sure, but he’s not ready to be all naked and vulnerable in front of Elliot. Not yet. It’s odd, because he’s there emotionally - lays his entire heart and all the feelings that come with it out for Elliot, but this is different. 

Though, the darkness that engulfs the older boys’ eyes wholly and completely, the sheer desire and hunger that fills them, it’s so beautiful that Lucas wishes he were being serious, wishes that Elliot would actually just drop his pants right there and hop in with him. 

Elliot leans in, slowly and teasingly, stops an inch away and Lucas is practically begging for a kiss by now, starved of it after so many hours of sleep. The older boy glances down at his boyfriends lips and then back up to his eyes. “Rain check, I’ve got something on the stove,” it’s merely a chaste peck after that because he’s cruel and loves to torture Lucas. 

Lucas whines when he pulls away, watches his retreating back and then, in a haste of realization, “Elliot, wait! Leave the stove alone!” but it’s no point because he’s already gone, leaving nothing but the soft sound of his laughter behind him. 

 

When Lucas steps out of the bathroom he’s still dripping wet, his towel wrapped loosely around his waist. He makes quick work of changing into his clothes and then pads out into the living room, barefoot and his hair slicked back, steaming cup of tea in hand. He’s eager to see what kind of damage Elliot has done to his kitchen, or what kind of poison he’s whipped up on a plate for the two of them. 

Nothing smells too burnt, and there’s not smoke hanging in the air. Maybe it’s not all that bad. 

Elliot’s back is facing him and Lucas slips in behind him, wrapping his arms around his stomach and peeking his head over his shoulder. That’s when he sees the peppermint extract, cinnamon and eggs out. “Oh, no,” he says, turning the taller boy around and pulling him away, “No, no, no,” 

“You haven’t even tried it!” Elliot protests but Lucas isn’t budging. 

“No, there’s no way,” 

“Please, Lu,”

And he really-- he  _ tries  _ to keep his resolve but one look into those fucking big round blue-grey eyes that just  _ beg  _ for him to do what they say and he can’t fucking say no to them. It’s impossible. 

He rolls his eyes fondly, relenting just as he always does, and lets himself be dragged back over to the oven where Elliot scoops up a portion of his experiment and slips it in between Lucas’ lips. It’s...it’s something. It’s not good, not by far, but the look of giddiness that’s written all over Elliot’s face, the way he does the adorable little jump of excitement, it’s what makes Lucas force the food down his throat instead of spitting it out again and say, “Amazing,” 

However, lying has never been his strong suit. Elliot brings a hand up to ruffle his drying hair, “I knew you’d love it,” he razzes and Lucas breathes a titter, 

“Shut up,”

“Hey,” Elliot says, “Let’s not go today,” 

“What?” 

He shrugs simply, “Let’s stay home, spend the day together,” he snakes his hands around Lucas’ hips, resting them on his lower back and tangling his fingers together, pulling their two bodies close. 

“We can’t,” as much as Lucas wants to,  _ fuck  _ does he want to, “I’ve already missed too many days and Imane will kill me if I skip another class,” 

Elliot bites his lip and the younger boy traces the movement. “I can handle Imane,” and Lucas laughs because,  _ no way.  _ No one can handle Imane when she’s pissed because it’s fucking terrifying. Elliot must see the doubt on his face and he insists, “I can, she loves me. You know she does,” it’s true, there’s no denying that she’s certainly got quite the soft spot for the Demaury. “And, um-- we can think of something to tell the school. I’ll do it, don’t worry,” 

Lucas makes the mistake of glancing up to Elliot’s eyes from where he’s been staring at his lips this entire time. “Don’t look at me like that,” he pleads because he really isn’t strong enough to say no. Especially not today when literally all he’s wanted to do since he got up was lay in bed. His words don’t work because it seems his boyfriend only intensifies the action. “Elliot, no-- don’t,” Lucas is shaking his head, trying to pull away so that the only thing in his line of sight isn’t just the guys face but it’s not working. His hold is too tight (not that he’s really putting in all the much effort to get away.) “Fucking a,” he mutters, and Elliot beams. 

Lucas is so fucking weak. 

And whipped, apparently. 

\--

\--

**_Le Gang_ **

**_Yann_ **

_ Yo _

_ You coming in today Lucas? _

**_Arthur_ **

_ I haven’t seen him _

**_Basile_ **

_ Did you guys see Daphne today doesn’t she look like an angel _

**_Lucas_ **

_ Can’t today, not feeling well :/ sorry guys _

**_Yann_ **

_ Everything okay? Do you need anything? _

**_Arthur_ **

_ No need to worry bros Elliot’s taking care of him. Isn’t that right SKIPPERS _

_ Do either of you have anything to say for yourselves _

**_Elliot_ **

_ I don’t know what you mean :) _

**_Yann_ **

_ Lame you guys suck  _

**_Basile_ **

_ Yeah include us next time i’m so hurt _

**_Arthur_ **

_ Baz no _

**_Elliot_ **

_ I think you guys might actually not want to be apart of this haha _

_ Up to you though _

_ ;) _

**_Arthur_ **

_ EW _

**_Yann_ **

_ Dang it, Elliot _

**_Basile_ **

_????? _

**_Lucas_ **

_ SHUT UP ELLIOT _

**_Arthur_ **

_ I’m good here at school thanks _

\--

\--

It happened when Lucas was organizing all of Elliot’s records. They weren’t in any sort of order and it was extremely messy and you couldn’t ever find what you were looking for so he decided to just drag them all out into the floor and sort them out. There are so many ways he could organize them - by color, by genre, alphabetical order, the date they were released, best to worst, coolest album cover to most horrible. He thinks the easiest way would just be alphabetical order because there’s no way to mess that up, and so he goes about that as he sits criss cross applesauce in front of the book case. Elliot’s lying down on the couch, watching him with curious eyes. 

Neither of them are talking, there’s a record playing low in the background (something that Lucas chose because he honestly couldn’t listen to another dubstep track) and he quietly hums along to it. He’s focused on what he’s doing, absentmindedly singing a few words here and there, but neither of them have actually said anything in at least an hour now, just content in their silence (save for the music). That’s why it startles him when he hears it. Elliot’s voice. It’s quiet, a tiny murmur but  _ so  _ clear and  _ so  _ certain. It wasn’t shaky, it wasn’t hesitant, it didn’t carry any sort of doubt. It was just stated to bluntly, so casually. Just as if one would say,  _ “The sky is blue today,”  _ or,  _ “That bird out there has wings,” _

It left no room for denial. No room for questions. No room for confusion. 

“I love you,” Elliot spoke, and Lucas doesn’t know what he thought it was going to feel like the first time he heard it, but he didn’t expect this. Although, he’s not surprised. Much like their first kiss, there was no skip of the heart beat, no sharp intake of breath, no tensing of the shoulders. His stomach didn’t drop, the hairs on his arms didn’t fly up, a deep red blush didn’t creep up his neck. 

It sounded so normal, like they told it to each other every day, like they’ve been telling it to each other from the moment they met. And Lucas realizes, they have. 

It’s in the way Elliot tells him to text him when he gets home safe every time they separate. It’s in the way Lucas reaches out to hold his hand randomly when they haven’t touched after a certain amount of time despite being in the same room. It’s in the way Elliot brings him tea when he knows Lucas is feeling down even without him saying anything. It’s in the way Lucas forces himself to taste every single concoction that Elliot makes just because he knows it’ll make the older boy happy. It’s in every good morning text, every night time phone call. Every picture drawn, every song performed on the piano. Every inside joke, every dumb meme they send to each other. It’s in every  _ i miss you,  _ every  _you're so beautiful._ It's  in every kiss, every hug, every tease, every cuddle as they fall asleep in each other’s arms. It’s in everything that they do with one another. 

That’s why it’s so easy, so effortless for Lucas to respond, “I love  _ you, _ ” with a small but sweet grin as he continues to sort the records. Nothing’s changed, it’s no big realization, no huge declaration. They both knew it, they’ve been saying to each other all along. 

But that doesn’t make the first utter of the actual words any less significant, though. Not at all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THERE'S ONLY   
> 1 THING   
> 2 DO  
> 3 WORDS  
> 4 YOUUUUUUU  
> I. LOVE YOU. ILOVEYOU
> 
> that song has been stuck in my head for the entirety of this fic


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> friends, it's been great. thank you so much for reading.

_ “I hate you.” _

_ “I hate every minute that I’ve ever had to spend with you.” _

_ “I hate the fact that I’m forced to call you my dad.”  _

_ “I hate how many years my mother was trapped with you, how miserable you made her.”  _

_ “I hate what you’re doing to her.” _

_ “That’s enough, Lucas. I’m still your father, you still have to treat me with respect.” _

_ “Fuck you,  _ dad _.” _

\--

\--

**_Lucas_ **

_ Are you in class yet?? _

_ Elliot? _

The morning of the hearing Lucas slept at his place alone. Elliot insisted on going with him but Lucas told him he needed to go to school instead. At the time, it sounded like a logical thing to do but as he sits on the crowded bus squished between the window and a particularly bulky man, his heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest. There are more things going on inside his head than he cares to count or even recognize. He’s angry, he’s scared, he’s still just as tired as he’s been since the beginning of this shit. He feels resentment, he feels guilty, he feels apologetic. He feels pure hatred. 

He feels really selfish that he regrets telling Elliot to go to school instead. He wishes he were here. He wishes he could tuck himself under his arm and bury into his side, hide away from the world. 

**_Lucas_ **

_ I’m almost there. Text me when you see this, I’m freaking out haha  _

His stomach is more torn up than it’s ever been as he takes his first step off of the bus and makes the short tread to the courthouse, his feet uneasy and head pounding harder and harder the closer he gets. 

It doesn’t take him long to spot his mother and Maye standing just past security. He gives them both hugs, kisses their cheeks. It’s a different type of grounding when he hugs his mother than it is when he hugs Elliot, a different type of comfort. It’s the motherly feeling, the one touch and you’re instantly soothing. A security unlike anywhere else. And he allows himself to enjoy it, the unique feeling of safety and love and of just being a child wrapped in his mother’s arms, but only for a few moments. Lucas is used to being the rock here. He’s used to being the one that his mom leans on when she needs someone, he’s used to being the one to comfort  _ her,  _ be there for  _ her,  _ wrap his arms around and hold  _ her.  _ It’s backwards, he knows.

And so it doesn’t take long before all of his instincts kick in and he wonders about how she must feel during this, about how well she must be holding it together, about how this might affect her mental stability. He can’t help but to fall back into it, being the protector and the one looking out for her, making sure she isn’t getting hurt by anyone. It’s been second nature to him since he was a kid. 

“You really don’t have to be here,” his mom told him, “I have Maye, you could have just stayed in school,” 

He shakes his head, waving her off, “There’s no way I wasn’t going to come, mama,” and gives her another kiss on the forehead. “Have you seen him?” 

“Not yet, we haven’t been here long though,” 

Lucas nods his head and purses his lips. “Should we go in, then?” 

 

He’s sat there for at least 20 minutes, watching those around him get their things into order. Watching the important people walk in and out of the courtroom, chatting with their colleagues, trading papers. Lucas is studying all of the paintings hanging on the wall, absentmindedly taking in the details of each one - how all of the judges looked exactly alike yet not at all. It’s confusing. He wonders how the first painter came to be. Who said,  _ let me paint your face onto this canvas?  _ Were they any good at it? Did they get it right the first time or was it so bad that the model couldn’t even recognize themselves? Said,  _ who’s that? _ Was there another person that came along and said,  _ let me try,  _ and was a whole lot better at it? How many people tried before they got it right? How are painters a thing? 

It’s embarrassing, really, how deep into his thoughts he is about this that he hadn’t even realized when the bench creaked next to him with the weight of another body. Like most times, the scent fills his nose before any of his other senses kick in, and he turns his head to see Elliot smiling sweetly at him, so casual like they had planned this, like he wasn’t skipping school right now to attend his baby of a boyfriend. 

“What are you doing here?” Lucas asks, but it’s kind, it isn’t accusatory, it’s not demanding.

“I know you said you wanted me to go to school but,” he shrugs, “When I talked to you last night I could just hear it in your voice and-- I don’t know, I didn’t want you to be here alone,” and then he adds, “You can yell at me about not listening to you later but I wanted to be here with you for this,” 

Lucas wants to be mad, he wants to say that it’s important for them to be able to be independent and respect boundaries when the other says not to do something, but he can’t. Not right now, at least, because he’s sitting here by himself as his mother and Maye are propped up front, and he’s still antsy, still uneasy and upset about being here at all, and this entire morning all he’s wanted was his fucking boyfriend. So he smiles and he nods, and he lets Elliot take his hand in his own because it’s what he  _ needs  _ right now. As codependent as it sounds. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, at the same time that he catches his mother’s eye from up front. She eyes him questionably, eyes Elliot next to him, and then recognition hits and she grins, brightly and beautifully before winking at him and turning back around in her seat. “Did you see my father when you were out there?” 

“No, not from what I could tell. You haven’t seen him yet?” and Lucas shakes his head no, chewing on the inside of his gum. 

“I..went to see him yesterday though..” Elliot snaps his head towards him and there’s a question in his eyes that Lucas already knows what it is. “It was after I left you at your apartment... I went to his to talk to him,” 

The other guy raises his eyebrows. “And?” 

Lucas flips his shoulders, looking at the back of the bench in front of them, “It went how it always does. We yell at each other and he just ignores everything that I say,” Lucas begged--  _ begged  _ his father not to go through, not to do this because there was literally no reason to and his mother was perfectly fine being under guardianship of her facility. They were treating her great, and especially compared to the other shitholes she’s been in in only a year and a half. She was happy with the way things were, she didn’t need his dad to run interference just so that he could steal her money and then tell everyone at church that he’s “taking care of and doing as much as he can for his dear wife” because Lucas knows that’s exactly what’s going to happen. He honestly wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if the guy was already at his church telling everyone,  _ “I’m doing the best I can to get this, I really am. I just care so much about her,”  _

Lucas wonders if any of them have asked how she got sent away in the first place. Or if any of them know that he’s got a son. Do they ask where the son is? Lucas knows that his dad certainly didn’t tell them that he had left his wife and kid, who ended up getting emancipated as soon as he turned 16 because he didn’t want any chance of being back in his father’s care. 

Would the church still think his dad was a good person then? Would they still praise him as much as they do? If they found out about how horrible of a father he was, and even worse of a husband? If they found out he big of a liar he was? About how little he actually cares about his “family”?? 

Lucas doubts it. And his blood boils just thinking about all of the fibs his dad has told them in favor of making himself look like a saint. All the ways that he’s probably turned it around on Lucas and his mother to make them seem like the bad guys. 

Elliot wraps his arm around the younger boy, “I’m sorry, love. If I could change all of this for you, I would,” 

“I know,” Lucas replies as he lies his head on the other’s shoulder. 

Only a minute later the bailiff is requesting that they all rise, and everyone watches as the judge walks in, face blank with disinterest, like she’d rather be anywhere else but here. 

It’s not long before she’s announcing why they’re here, calling out their names and Lucas’ dad has yet to show up. He keeps his gaze on the lawyer though, as the man continues to glance around frantically in search of his client before getting some sort of text or message on his phone. Lucas observes the furrowing of his brows as he stares at his phone screen in confusion, and then what’s clearly anger. 

When the judge calls for Mr. Lallemant, the lawyer stands up, declaring that he’s not present, and-- 

Lucas must be hearing things. 

“Mr. Lallemant has made a last minute decision to cancel request for guardianship, claiming he’s no longer fit for the responsibility and asks that the patient remain in the custody of her facility…” everything else after that is a blur to Lucas, he can’t hear it. He feels like he’s in slow motion, everything around him moving at the speed of a sloth. His mom turns around to look at him, and he imagines that the expression on her face is much like his own. She’s just as shocked as he is, and Maye, too. 

Before he realizes it, he’s standing outside the courtroom, everyone having been dismissed, and he’s still not really sure that what’s happening right now is real. He sort of feels like he’s experiencing this outside of his body, or like, they’re just standing there as the people move around him and have conversations of their own and he’s looking at them but he’s not really seeing them, he can hear them but he’s not really listening. He’s vaguely aware that his mom and Maye are trying to discuss what happened, clear things up. 

And Lucas is still not present. Not really. Not until he feels his mom’s arms on him, her hand on his face and she’s asking, “Lucas, are you okay? Look at me,” and he tries to, attempts to focus on her for what feels like minutes. Slowly he snaps back into it, her blurryface becoming more clear. “Did you know about this?” she asks him softly and all he can do is shake his head. 

No, he had no fucking idea. He  _ hoped,  _ but he had no fucking idea. His mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to figure it all out. On one hand he’s not surprised. It’s so like his father to put them through all of this hell for months only to completely change his mind and drop it so fast that it gives them whiplash. He’s an asshole, and Lucas wouldn’t be at all shocked if the man did this just for his own pleasure, his own shits and giggles to watch the struggle and chaos unravel before him, just because he can. And he would make up some other absurd lie to the people at church, explain to them that something happened, something that disabled the process from going through and  _ he’d still manage to come out on top.  _

Maye rejoins them from where she was chatting with the lawyer, finding out all of the legalities. There are papers that Lucas’ dad has to sign in order to give custody back over to the home and to sign away his own rights, and they’re not really in the clear until he does that but the man seemed pretty certain it was going to happen. 

“He assured me that this is what he wanted,” the lawyer tells them. 

Everyone is pretty much speechless, Lucas knows he is. He doesn't know what he’d even say if he  _ could  _ open his mouth and force some words out. So Maye speaks for them, offers a quiet,  _ “Thank you, we’ll be in touch.”  _ before guiding them all away. 

Lucas’ head is spinning, he’s totally overwhelmed. He wants to be grateful for this, and he is, but he refuses to feel any sort of gratitude for his dad. They wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for him, and over and over again Lucas asks himself,  _ what was the point? _ He knows his dad is a fucked up person, he knows he’s an asshole, and yet all the time he wonders what the hell is going on inside the man’s brain. 

“Should we go eat, then?” He hears his mom ask, and for the second time he’s pulled out of his deep thoughts, glancing up at her. He plasters on a smile, nods. Maye tells them she’s got another place to be, she can't join them so his mother accepts that and says, “Okay, just the 3 of us,” while grinning at Elliot. 

And that's the moment that it clicks to Luas that this is their first time meeting each other, under  _ these  _ circumstances. And Lucas has been so in his head that he’s failed to introduce them, so he scrambles quickly with a small, “”Fuck,” under his breath and says a little louder, “Sorry, this is Elliot, my boyfriend, and uh, Elliot, this is my mother,” Despite their current situation, he blushes as he makes the introduction; something he never would have imagined doing a couple of months ago. 

“Lucas has told me so much about you, I’m so glad I finally get to meet you,” she tugs Elliot into a hug, completely engulfing his entire body in her small frame. Elliot is like a whole head taller than her, plus some neck too, but he just bends down to meet her, let's himself get tangled in her arms. It’s a nice image, a great picture and it brings warmth to Lucas’ heart. 

 

They're getting along great. Better than Lucas ever could have thought. Elliot tells her about himself, his interests and his disinterests and he opens up more than Lucas expected him to. In return, his mother shares some rather embarrassing stories about Lucas when he was a baby. Particularly one from when he was about 2 and they were at the pool. “He kept sticking his two pointer fingers up, I think it was supposed to be a thumbs up but you can never tell with him, and he said, “I be in the pool!” and I said, “Yeah baby, you’re in the pool,” and he said, “No, I be in the pool!!” and so I replied, “Yes, that’s right!” and it took one more time for him to point down and say, “I  _ be  _ in the pool,” and then that’s when I realized he was not saying  _ be,  _ but  _ pee, _ ” Elliot was laughing so hard at this point that he could barely sit up straight. Mama was getting quite the kick out of absolutely mortifying her son, who currently had his face in his hands to hide the redness. 

“Glad you guys are enjoying this,” Lucas mutters unhappily from his chair, glaring at the both of them with no real heat behind it. Elliot seems to take at least a little bit of pity on him and reaches over to put a comforting hand on his thigh. 

“I’m sorry,” he offers, but it’s muffled by his chuckle and the fact that his fingers are covering his mouth trying to hide said chuckle. “You just sound really adorable,” 

“Oh, he  _ was, _ ” Lucas’ mom adds, winking at her son before taking a sip of her water. “He had these goggles that he’d always put on and--” 

“Okay, I think we’ve heard enough of my childhood stories,” it was all that needed for Elliot to have more shit to tease him about, and then go share it with their friends so that those assholes could join in, too. 

His mother gives him a look, glancing back at Elliot, “I have some photos of him in my room if you’d like to see them some time,” 

Elliot mock gasps, beaming at Lucas. “I would  _ love  _ to, thank you,” and Lucas rolls his eyes. 

A couple more laughs and Mama’s asking, “So tell me, Elliot, how did you meet my dear Lucas,” 

Elliot sits back in his chair, a smile on his face and his hand still on his boyfriends’ thigh, which Lucas has tangled his fingers into. “I-- uh, texted him, actually,” he’s got this beautiful reminiscent expression on his features that’s also sort of shy, and he’s peering sweetly at Lucas. “But I had known who he was for a while before that and had finally gained the courage to say something to him,” there’s a soft pink tint to his cheeks. 

“Well I’m glad you did,” she grins genuinely and then adds, her voice laced with mirth, “Had you waited on him to make the first move, you two might just not be sitting here together today,” and Lucas wants to protest but he knows she’s right. He was way too shy to approach in any way before they knew each other. 

“Yeah,” Elliot agrees, “I’m glad I did, too,” 

\--

\--

**_Mama_ **

_ Elliot is a lovely boy. I’m proud of you, son. He’s very lucky _

**_Lucas_ **

_ Thanks, mama, it means a lot.  _

\--

\--

Lucas doesn’t hear from his dad all week, but he also doesn’t reach out to him, either. He thinks about it, of course, but there’s something holding him back every time. 

He doesn’t think of it. He keeps his mind off of it, not trying to bother himself with the  _ why’s  _ and more just the fact that they don’t have to deal with it anymore. They’re finally free. 

\--

\--

On friday night he meets Elliot at the boys' apartment. They’ve gotten to the point where neither of them wait to knock anymore, instead just letting themselves in. Lucas steps inside, not bothering to take his shoes off because they shouldn’t be here long, only meeting so they can go to Emma’s party together. 

Entering Elliot’s place is always his favorite. The first whiff of all these different scents - cigarette smoke, incense, that fucking cologne. It permanently smells like weed inside, and Lucas basks in it because it’s all so  _ Elliot.  _ He’ll never tire of it. Ever. 

“Hey, baby?” He calls, tucking his phone into his pocket and then padding over to the refrigerator for a bottle of water. 

“In here,” Elliot calls back, and even though it wouldn’t take that long to figure out because there’s really not a lot of options, he stills asks, 

“Where’s here?” 

“Oh, I just be in bathroom,” 

Lucas nearly chokes on his water, spluttering it all over himself and he hears that damned snicker coming from the other guy. He makes his way down the hall to where his boyfriend is standing at the bathroom sink fixing his hair. Elliot’s already watching the doorway when Lucas shows himself, glaring. “You’re an asshole,” 

“Couldn’t resist,” 

Lucas shakes his head lovingly, breathing a laugh, “Are you ready to go?” 

“Almost,” he’s moving different locks of hair around, trying to get them to do what he wants and then he huffs a curse. Lucas eyes him with fondness and appreciation, bordering on ogling but whatever, he’s allowed to. And then Elliot murmurs something really disturbing, in passing and mostly to himself, “Maybe I should just shave it all off,” 

Lucas jumps forward, “Uh, no it’s okay,” maybe a little too quick and, possibly emphatic, and Elliot cocks his eyebrow. “I only mean-- you have nice hair,” 

“Would I not look good with it buzzed?” 

Lucas rolls his eyes and lets out a breath, sidling up behind his boyfriend and reaching up to card his hands through the brown mop and catching Elliot’s eyes through the mirror, “Of course you would,” he heartens, because he  _ would.  _ He’d look fucking gorgeous no matter what he did to his head - whether he died it black (fuck, Lucas can only imagine) or combed it over to the side to look like an old man, or even if just completely shaved it all off and didn’t leave a single trace of it. He’d look amazing, and Lucas tells him that, makes sure he is every bit reassured as he could possibly get. “But I love this,” he laces his fingers in it and whispers teasingly, “It’s my favorite thing about you,” making sure the taller boy catches his wink. 

Elliot attempts to scoff but it comes out as a throaty laugh and he turns around, snaking his arms around Lucas’ body. “That’s so nice of you to say, thank you,” Lucas giggles as his hands move up to link behind Elliot’s neck. 

“Just here to make you feel good,” he shrugs jokingly and Elliot hums, leaning down to kiss him. It’s hard not to get caught in the feeling of it, how fucking awesome it is. The latter tastes like tobacco and toothpaste, and Lucas moans around their tongues, tugging their two bodies closer. “I love you,” he mumbles breathlessly into Elliot’s mouth and can feel the way the other smiles against his lips. 

“I know,” and there goes the moment. Lucas hits his arm as Elliot pulls away cackling. 

_ “Asshole.”  _

\--

\--

The party is in full swing by the time they arrive. It doesn’t take long for them to sniff out the guys,  _ inevitably  _ gathered in the kitchen. And it’s funny, because when they all spot the couple they tilt their heads at Lucas in a “sup” manner, but all scramble to tackle Elliot in a hug and express with  _ way too much  _ enthusiasm how happy they are to see him. Lucas would feel salty about it if he could, but he can’t. He loves how much his friends love his boyfriend and vice versa. And Elliot’s like a puppy dog with the attention, he fucking loves it. He welcomes it no matter what, always getting this toothy grin on his face when the others jump to greet him. 

Lucas sits back and watches; watches how Elliot asks what they’re all drinking and Basile offers to make something up for him - combining a bunch of shit that there’s a good chance Lucas would throw up if he had to think about it; watches how Elliot takes one sip and then gags, giving Basile a thumbs up anyways because he doesn’t want to hurt his feelings; watches how Yann gets both Lucas and Elliot beers, then lights up a joint and passes it straight to the latter; watches how Arthur starts telling them all about a girl he’s got his eye on and Elliot encourages him to talk to her, reminding him to  _ take desperate to a new level  _ and then asks Basile how it’s going with Daphne. 

Lucas will never be able to put into words, or even comprehend for himself how just a few months ago he was staring longingly at Elliot from afar, secretly admiring everything about him and all but stalking him, and now Elliot’s managed to wedge his way into every part of Lucas’ life. The flatmates love him, his friends love him, his fucking mom  _ adores  _ him. Lucas can’t explain the warmth that fills his entire being when he thinks about it, how he never could have imagined it but couldn’t be happier with the way things are. 

His gaze matches Elliot and they smile at each other, conveying just through one look how perfect it all is - how elated they both are. 

 

An hour later finds them dancing with each other in a corner. It’s not a slow song, not by far, but yet their arms are wrapped around each other as they lean their foreheads against the other. Lucas shifts forward just an inch to peck Elliot on the mouth and nuzzle closer, his chin resting on the taller boys’ shoulder. He feels Elliot’s mouth press into his throat and he smiles, looking around and taking in everyone. 

Arthur’s sitting on the couch with his new friend, Daphne is - somehow - caught in conversation with Basile and doesn’t seem like she’s totally hating it. Emma and Manon carelessly dance with each other as Alex and Idriss laugh at them. Alexia and her girlfriend are pressed close to each other, giggling about whatever from their spot at the wall. Yann is somewhere off with Chloe, and Imane and Sofiane are in their private world out on the balcony enjoying each other’s company without any interruptions. 

Everyone seems content. Like Lucas. 

He bites his lip in contemplation and then turns his head to whisper into Elliot’s ear, “You know, Emma’s room is just upstairs,” 

Elliot pulls back, peering into his boyfriend's’ eyes and then down to his mouth and back up. “Yeah?” he asks, and Lucas nods. 

“Wanna go?” 

The grin that he gets in return is answer enough, Elliot knows that, but he stills licks his lips and says, “Fuck yes,” and Lucas laughs joyously, grabbing his hand and pulling him through the crowd.    
  


In the end, it was every bit worth the wait. 

 

_ FIN _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in regards to Lucas' father, I based him off of my best friend's dad, who pulls shit like this literally 24/7 except I toned this like way down. like, if lucas’ dad is a 3 then this man is an easy 11. & I thought, since we don't ever get to know what goes on in his head, or what the reasoning is behind any of the absolutely absurd things that he does, then why should we (you all and I) get to know what Lucas' dad’s deal is :) I hope it isn't too hard for any of you to wrap your heads around his seemingly complete 180 but what the heck, some things just have to go unexplained. (and it has nothing to do with the ditch I dug myself into while writing him. this was the plan all along) 
> 
> And also i suck at court shit and have no idea how this shit actually works, so in this AU we just pretend everything was just totally 100% accurate.
> 
> You all have been so great to write for and I cannot thank you enough for all the love I've received. & if you want you can go check out the first chapter to my new story Do the Trick which i will be updating here shortly. 
> 
> Thank you all again, SO much & happy pride :)


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